Nightwatch by Rembrandt
by nedfan
Summary: A new sinister synthetic drugs hits DC's streets. Myles takes on the investigation when it hits home. Will he be able to stop the disease and save the one he loves?
1. Chapter 1

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A/N: the usual **disclaimer**: the team's not mine, all others are fictional (and mine), any similarity or resemblance with real-life persons is a coincidence, though places, streets, buildings e.g. and presented facts are existing (checked to the best of my knowledge and abilities, but correct me if I'm not).

Furthermore: this story will sometimes contain elements of angst, degradation, shocking situations. Ratings will be adjusted when necessary and listed above the chapter involved.

Despite all this: enjoy, please R/R

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**Nightwatch by Rembrandt**

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oOo

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Saturday 

The tall, pretty brunette made her way through the crowd. It was hot inside the club, at least she felt how her cheeks glowed. The music was loud, louder than usual it seemed and more intense. She felt a little thirsty and she decided to freshen up in the lavatory, her clothes were in desperate need of rearrangement. She spun round when someone tapped her shoulder.

Her friend leaned closer, her mouth near her ears. 'Where are you going?'

The brunette stroked back a strand of hair and nodded towards the lavatory. 'I think I'm going to refresh. I look trashed.' Her friend mustered her. 'You look okay', she barely managed to get her message across over the pulsating beat of the music.

'What time is it?'

'One PM', her friend responded. _One PM and I'm already feeling tired_. She gestured to her friend. 'You still have your hit of V?', she asked.

'You want some?' The brunette nodded, her friend handed her a little pink pill.

'You sure it's okay? They said you could only take one, no more.'

She shook her head. 'No problem, I had mine a couple of hours ago. I'll be fine.'

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oOo

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Inside the lavatory she rested over the sink, her hand on the side. She looked in the mirror. 'Jesus, you look awful.' Self disgusted she let the tap run and plunged her hands into the water. She splashed some water over her hot cheeks to cool down. Carefully she applied her make-up again, combed her hair. Then she took the little pill and swallowed it down with some water. 

She didn't feel well. A throbbing feeling inside her head made it really hard to focus straight. She blinked a couple of times with her eyes, but the blurry vision didn't go away. She felt how her movements became less controlled, her fingers tingling, she couldn't see things clear anymore. People around her seemed to be in different colors. A bright blinding halo around someone dancing close to her made her squeeze her eyes together. Staggering backwards, she swayed and nearly lost control.

'Ashley?', the voice of her friend seemed far away, metallic and kept echoing through her mind. The throbbing feeling had become a pounding in her head. Frantically she began to massage her temples to get rid of the pain. She grew afraid.

Her breath came out uncontrolled and it felt like some had her heart in a vise and was turning it shut. Music was not longer music, the sharp sounds pierced through her brain like hot needles, she cringed with every peak and every beat. She gasped for breath, fighting against the uncontrollable, hostile and foreign forces that overwhelmed her body.

An intense pain shot through her stomach and spread through her body, her head shivered, the pressure inside became too much. The last thing she saw was a white flash blinding her sight and then everything went black. She crashed to the floor.

'Ashley!...'

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GWU Hospital

900, 23rd street Washington DC, 02.15 AM

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The ambulance stopped at the ER entrance it's lights painting flashes of red, blue and white on the walls. The medics got out and rushed the stretcher inside. 

'Move her to ER one', the doctor said. 'What's the diagnose?'

'Caucasian female, 22 years old. She collapsed in a club, unconscious ever since, her pressure is 140 over 90, heart is racing over 165. Possible O.D.'

The doctor nodded and placed his stethoscope on her chest. 'I want a ECG and EEG, get a tox-screen.' They moved her over to the table. 'Get ready to intubate her, IV with Narcan. What's her name?', the doctor asked the medic. 'Ashley.'

'Okay, Ashley, stay with us...'

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GWU Family room 4, 03.00 AM

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Anxiously they sat on the benches, not knowing what was happening. The mothers face was wet with tears as she looked for comfort in her husbands arms. Her other son and daughter had just arrived, crying and upset. They hugged each other. 

The door opened and a doctor came in. 'The Weavers?', he asked softly.

They nodded. 'I'm doctor Sterling. We are trying to stabilize Ashley.'

'How..how is she', the mother asked trembling.

'She's suffering from a mayor drug overdose. We ran a toxicity test of her blood. It contained high levels of Dextromethorphan, pseudoephidrine and other chemicals. She's having Tachycardia which means her heart is racing out of control also her blood-pressure is extremely high. We have her on an IV with Naloxone also known as Narcan, a counterdrug to fight the overdose.'

'Will she be okay?', the father asked. Sterling raised his hands and shoulders a little.

'She's in a very critical stage right now. We'll have to wait if the counterdrug works, and whether we can bring her tachycardia under control.'

'All we can do is wait...', he repeated softly.

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Emergency Room 1, GWU, 03.25 AM

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Suddenly her oxygen levels dropped, and her blood pressure too. The monitor began to scream. 'She having a stroke, get a CAT-scan ready', Sterling yelled. 

The CAT-scan revealed a severe hemorrhage in her brain. Then the ECG screamed once more and revealed a flat line.

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**Ashley Weaver**. 1984-2006

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	2. Chapter 2

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A/N: here's some more, though short. Let me know what you think...

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Leland-Henderson residence

1900 N Quebec Street, Arlington VA, Monday 07.30 AM

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'Deanne!...', Kyra shouted. She waited for a response from her daughter. Nothing.

'She's going to be late, again', she said to her husband, Robert, when he appeared in the hall, on his way out of the kitchen.

'I'll go and get her', he offered. Kyra nodded and was on her way to the kitchen when he got hold of her. 'Wait a second, Mrs. Leland, where's my reward?' He pulled her into his embrace and smiled a boyish smile. Kyra rolled her eyes.

'You're blackmailing, you know that?' He winked. 'Yes, my dear. But it works.'

He kissed her. 'You know you look beautiful?'

Kyra swatted his arm and began to laugh. 'You're such a sweet-talker, Robert Henderson, I still can't think of what made me fall for you.'

He smiled. 'My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun...' he began.

'Oh, stop that Shakespearean drama, better get Deanne out to school.'

'Yes ma'am.'

'And stop calling me ma'am.'

He knocked on her bedroom-door before stepping in, he knew his eighteen year old daughter hated people rushing in without prior warning.

'Deanne...', he said when he entered. The dark-blonde girl swung round. Her face somewhat pale, like she had been for a while. Her eyes absent. 'What, dad?'

'Aren't you supposed to be in school today?'

'Class won't start until eight-nineteen. I got plenty of time', she responded somewhat brisk.

'Oh, well, anyway, your mother is concerned you might be late.' Deanne rolled her eyes, annoyed. 'I'll be fine, it's French from Mrs. Cloutier, saves me the bore...'

'Hey, your in the IB, that means you have responsibilities...', Robert said growing somewhat angry with her.

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Lately, it seemed Deanne had changed. Her attitude had become more hostile, her once sparkling eyes that could make even the saddest of days brighten, were now cold and absent. As her parents they had grown worried, asking her if she was all-right, had made appointments with their GP. They couldn't find out what was wrong.

One day he flat out asked her if she was doing drugs. Deanne appeared shocked with his question and denied. He believed her then.

But now he wasn't so sure anymore. She always seemed irritated when he began over her health and her school. She was in the International Baccalaureate Program at Washington-Lee High, a two year program for students to broaden their study with international Universities like Yale, Heidelberg (Germany) and Sorbonne (France). The IB demanded not only school activities but also social participation. And lately Deanne began to fall behind on both.

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'I won't tolerate you skipping classes, you hear me?' His daughter sighed, when she was combing her hair. She threw the comb on her bed and put her hands on her sides. 'I won't, okay? You happy now?'

'Hey, I am not one of your high school buddies you can yell at. I'm your father, show a bit of respect and decency. To me and your mother.' His eyes were burning into hers. Deanne backed off a little. 'Okay, fine, I'm sorry.' She walked towards the door. 'Now I'm going.'

'What about breakfast?', Robert asked when he walk behind her down the stairs.

'I'm not hungry.'

'Your mother has made you something, it's not good to go away on an empty stomach.'

Deanne smiled a thin smile. 'I'll have some, bye dad.'

He used to give her a kiss, but she wouldn't let him anymore. It hurt a little, but teens weren't always that fond of their parents being too close. He understood, at least he tried to. So instead he just said bye and went to work.

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Washington-Lee High School

1300 N Quincy Street. Arlington VA, 08.10 AM

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She walked toward her locker, when she was met by Suzy and Meredith, her closest friends for years. 'Hey, isn't school a bore?'. Suzy said. Meredith rolled her eyes and sighed.

'Yeah, especially when you're starting with French.'

They stood near the classroom to talk some more, Suzy spotted Dave, a eighteen year old quarterback with W-L High football team.

'Oh, we had such a wicked weekend', she quacked. 'You know, a bit of grass, relaxing. And then there's this other guy. He had some serious stuff, called it 'dipper' or something.'She shrugged. 'I don't know, anyway he dips his cigarette in it and he was out.'

'You tried it?', Deanne asked.

'No, looked kinda funny, but he had a hit of V too. A little pink one, he said it was the best. All the way from Europe.'

The girls stopped talking when Mrs. Cloutier walked by to start with her lesson.

'Allez, filles, la classe a commencé.'

They walked into the classroom. Meredith tapped Suzy on her shoulder.

'You're going to see this guy?' Suzy shrugged. 'I don't know, maybe tomorrow. Why? you in too?' Meredith nodded. Deanne seemed hesitant, but Meredith pushed her a little. 'It'll be okay, we had this stuff before.' Deanne grinned. 'Yeah, okay. I'm bait.'


	3. Chapter 3

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A/N: general warning: some mild language, and use of narcotics. Reviews highly welcomed (I don't bite :-)...

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At the end of their school day, they hooked up with Dave and some other people. Us usual they gathered near the bridge on North Monroe street over I66. On the dirt-road they had been hanging out ever since they were teens. Sitting there, chatting, watching traffic on the Interstate, all bringing stuff, drinks, some food too. And after a while it was there where they began experimenting.

Never people had been asking questions, it was a well known spot for local youth to hang out. They felt safe enough to drink alcohol beverages even before they're were legally allowed to do so. And more recently, it had shifted to using other things. Marijuana, the occasional ecstasy-tablet, some did other things too like PCP.

Being close to DC it meant there was no burden, no difficulty to get the stuff they needed.

'So Dave', Suzy began. 'What are you doing tomorrow?' The brown-hair, well build, 6'2" David Mulligan looked at her, somewhat bored. 'I dunno, you?'

Suzy shook her head, and took a sip of her Bud, paper bag wrapped around it. 'No, but this guy last Saturday, what's his name?'

'Kev, Kevin or something. Why?'

'Well he could get some real good stuff he said. Some V. or whatever.'

Without looking he shrugged his shoulder. 'Sure.'

'Oh, cool', Meredith responded. 'I mean, like the last time we had some, it wasn't doing anything.'

'You get used I suppose', Deanne added. Michael, one of Dave's team mates lit up a cigarette, took a few puffs and handed him over to the others. The all smoked it. 'Pass the dutchie to the left man side', he joked sounding somewhat tight. 'Damn, that's some heavy shit, Mike', Dave commented as he leaned back after taking a few puffs. 'Only the best for Mike.'

Deanne slowly took a few long hauls on the cigarette and let the smoke roll in her mouth before slowly breathing it out through her nostrils.

Within a matter of moments, she already felt the warmth inside her, she loosened up, her senses getting more amped up. She started to giggle somewhat over a silly thing, that normally wouldn't have been remotely funny.

'It's good, huh?' They kept sitting like this for a while, sharing some more.

Then Mike spotted a police cruiser coming down Monroe, northbound. 'The cops, man. Get rid of this stuff.' They watched the car coming, it slowed down only remotely but didn't made any attempt to come their way. 'That was close, it's time to go', Dave said. 'Next time my place.' They all went their separate ways.

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Leland-Henderson residence

1900 N Quebec Street, Arlington VA, 07.00 PM

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Kyra, Robert and their fifteen year old son, Mitchell, where already having dinner. Deanne hadn't showed up when Kyra served. Robert tried to call her on her cell phone, she didn't answer it, again. It set him off.

'This is it, Kyra. I've let things go for a while, hoping she might realize it herself.'

His wife looked at him concerned, then she looked at Mitchell. 'Mitchell, dear, could you...'. Robert interrupted her. 'No, Kyra, let him stay. This is something that affects us all.'

Mitchell sat down again, uneasy. 'Last summer I asked her, and I'm going to ask it again.'

'You think?...'

'It's not thinking anymore, it's for sure. Oh, she'll deny, but I can tell Kyra. Goddamned, I can tell.' He shook his head.

It was a moment of helplessness, a father who knows something has gone wrong. To see the one he loves slip through. It felt like he had failed.

They missed the signals. They had been missing the signals because they believed her. After he asked her the first time, she had denied, and it seemed things were better afterwards, so they trusted her. Who wouldn't trust their children...

This time their bond of trust was broken, indefinite perhaps. And it hurt, for both Kyra and Robert.

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oOo

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When Deanne finally came home it was well after nine p.m. She was already heading for the stairs when she saw her dad standing on the threshold of the living-room. 'Deanne...' He nodded with his head towards the room, commanding her to enter. 'I'm not hungry.'

'It's not a plea, it's an order, Deanne. We need to talk.'

She let out a sigh, acting annoyed, when she stepped in. Her mother sat on the couch, Mitchell at the table. 'Do we have to? I'm too...' She couldn't continue because her father interrupted her. 'You what? You're too tired? Too busy?... Too stoned?' That caught her by surprise. Her jaw dropped somewhat. She started to stutter. 'I, eh... I, eh.. wasn't...' Her father exploded.

'What?...', he yelled, his eyes somewhat squinted. 'You're going to lie against us, just like you've been doing the last time?...'

'Robert...', Kyra tried. He lowered his voice somewhat.

'...you've betrayed us, our trust. I asked you, and then when you said no, I believed you. I _believed _you. I would even have stepped up against anyone who thought otherwise...'

Deanne just stood there. No response when her father continued.

'...Now I know I've been a fool, for trusting you. You flat-out lied right into my face, not only to me, but to your mother and your brother too.' He gestured towards Mitchell.

'Any idea how it should feel for him, huh? You're his sister...his _sister_ goddamned! Or are you too far gone you even care?' Kyra got up from the couch and squeezed Roberts hand and then she held her daughter. 'Your father cares for you dear, so do I and Mitchell...'

'I don't have to take this yelling, I have my dignity...', Deanne said angrily.

'You lost yours when you began taking this shit, and when you lied to us', Robert cut through. Kyra hushed him, anxious not to drive her away, not when they still had the chance to talk.

'It's okay, we have to move on from here. Yelling at each other won't help.' She looked her daughter in her eyes. 'Why?...', she asked the question that had been on her mind all night.

'Why not...', Deanne replied avoiding eye contact.

'That's no answer', Robert said. Deanne abruptly turned around and stormed out. 'It's what you have to do with', she yelled.

'Deanne!...' They heard how the front-door slammed shut and she was gone.

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Kyra's eyes were wet when she looked at her son, who silently sat at the table staring at his hands. 'Mitchell', she said. He looked up, she could see he was tormented by thoughts, his eyes dark with uncertainty. A look in his eyes no fifteen year old ever should have.

She hugged her son, wanting to him to know they were going to get through it. Together.

'This doesn't mean we don't love your sister. We just don't know what to do right now...', her voice broke and she cried the tears she had been withholding all the time.

Robert took her in his arms, gently swaying. He gave his son a friendly nudge, Mitchell grinned somewhat uncomfortably. 'Will she be okay?', he asked.

Robert nodded, 'she will be, I can't let her destroy her life, and ours maybe too. We'll get through this Mitch.'

But he wasn't so sure anymore.

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**A/N: **PCP: _phencyclidine_ aka 'Angel Dust' , a dissocative drug, formerly used as anesthetic.


	4. Chapter 4

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A/N: okay, a little bit of a short one this time, more to come soon. Please review and make me happy :-)

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The Bullpen, J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building

935 Pennsylvania Ave NW, Washington DC, Tuesday 09.11 AM

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Bobby sat at his desk, feet on it, leaning back flipping through a file. Jack's desk was empty, so was D.'s. Sue, Tara and Lucy were huddled behind Sue's computer looking at baby-pictures Emily, one of Sue's friends, had sent. 

Myles walked in. He stopped in the middle of the room. 'It's good to be back', he said with an impish smile on his face. They looked at him. 'What better rousing environment than to be in the midst of my beloved colleagues', he said looking round the room approving. He met skeptical faces. He shook his head, while waving his finger admonishing. 'All work and no play. People, people...'

'Hoity-toity, if it isn't Hooray Henry', Bobby said in a haughty manner. Myles walked over and in one single move he pushed Bobby's feet off his desk. 'Remember we're not Down Under here anymore, Koala Boy.' He sat down.

'Ow, did it hurt to crash on planet Earth again?' Myles ignored him. 'Where is our fearless team-leader, and Gans? Without him this team is seriously weighing on my expertise alone.'

'They're playing hooky, with Garrett.' Bobby stretched out a little and yawned. 'That makes you our man in command. Any plans of attack ready?'

'Surely there has to be some affray which needs our attention. I suggest you all find one.'

Sue chuckled. 'We're already in the midst of something.' Myles raised one brow. 'Browsing through toddlers snapshots would hardly be something our tax-payers would appreciate.'

'As long as it's just pictures', Bobby said, 'it's better than bringing one of the little grafters.' He held up the file to shield off the gums and paper pellets the women were throwing at him.

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oOo

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'Well, well. Good to see everybody's up and running', Jack commented when he walked in together with D.

He held up a copy of the Washington Post. 'Anyone by any chance read this mornings' copy?'

'How could I? I'm usually frantically trying not to get stuck in traffic', Bobby replied. 'Reading a newspaper wouldn't be something I could do during that.'

'I'll take that as a no.'

'Make that a double one.'

He looked round at the others. 'Well?' Sue raised her hand. 'I read it, but what are you specifically after?' D. pursed his lips amused. 'As usual you're cutting right to the chase.'

'A drug bust in Southeast. A big one.' Myles scowled a little. 'They're raiding more houses than during the Blitz, so what's new?'

'True, nothing new so far. But it seems the problems are overwhelming DC Metro.'

'Call in the crazy dope-heads of the DEA', Bobby added.

'They have', D. said. 'But it seems working with them isn't as rewarding as it seems. Something Sue can tell you first hand.' He looked at her.

Sue nodded. She remembered Pete Hadley way too good, when the undercover agent got shot and Hadley nearly succeeded in blaming her, almost losing her credibility and her job. _Oh, yes, she remembered._ She smiled a little smile. 'Not something I enjoyed', she said.

'That's why our beloved Diana Grove called us, or better, Jack to help them.'

'And basically frustrate the DEA when we come crashing in', Myles said. He ran a hand over his chin. His face lit up with an unholy glee. 'I'm always into pestering these fake G-men.' He spun his chair round to face Bobby.

'What?', the Aussie said. 'November 12th', was all he said, while his eyes pierced Bobby's.

'Ah...', he said looking sad. Myles twisted his face in contempt. 'That's all you can say? Ah..?', he said.

He got up and menacingly hung over his desk towards Bobby. He rolled up his sleeves and waved his hand admonishing. 'Because of Crocodile Dundee here we lost Myrtle's Girdle...'

'Get a grip on reality, Hooray Henry...', Bobby sat up straight and slammed his file on the desk. He leaned over to face the blonde agent's dark looks, semi-agitated. Both men stared each other in the eyes.

'...for the first time in ten years...', Myles continued with a tempered voice.

'...thanks to a lousy coach...', Bobby cut through.

Demitrius patted both of them on the shoulders. 'Pitch-fights only after work, lads.' The other were laughing, but Myles could only spare a half-hearted grin, so did Bobby.

'I'm in, Mick Dundee, what about you?'

'We need a better coach...', Bobby chimed.

Jack swatted the back of his head with his newspaper.

'Okay, people. Serious now. Diana Grove wants us to help DC Metro out...', he began.

'And you couldn't resist her plea did you, Spark?', Bobby joked. 'What about Diana, anyway, eh? She's quite a foxy lady.' Jack gave him another swat.

'I said we could lend them a hand, here and there. But nothing full-time. So, we do this one next to the things we're hired to do. They happy, we happy.'

'Except for the DEA', Myles grinned mischievously.


	5. Chapter 5

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A/N: As promised a new post. Feedback please

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The Bullpen, 11.30 AM

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The azure eyed, curled blonde woman, smartly dressed in a dark-blue two-piece suit, got everyone's attention when she walked in. Lieutenant Diana Grove of Washington Metropolitan PD, had called Jack earlier that she would be dropping by to fill in the team on the latest developments.

'Hi, it's good to see the nation's first line of defense is working', she said smiling.

'Ah, Sheila, no need for such formalities, give me an ol' sloppy one and I'll call it a truce', Bobby said grinning. Diana winked at him.

'Tempting, however I'm not here because the FBI guided tour has left out on me, but because things are overwhelming our capacity.'

'Yeah, we heard you even called in these snow-boarders of the DEA', Myles added looking disgruntled. 'To help mow the grass', Diana quipped 'but I understood from Jack that you're feeling second-hand because we rang you guys _after_ we contacted them.'

'Don't go there, Sheila', Bobby warned. 'Slippery path.'

'Appropriate choice of words...', Myles growled a little.

Diana looked form the one to the other, amused. 'I missed something?'

Jack interfered, 'Nothing serious, trust me. An ego thing.'

Diana shared a knowing look with Sue, the two women had grown to like each other a lot. And together with Lucy and Tara they spend time together whenever they had a chance to.

_Don't ask, you don't want to know_ Sue's eyes signaled. Diana nodded slightly, smiling.

'Anyway, we need your help', she said. 'You already know Southeast DC is a trouble spot.'

'Capitol Hill's backyard', Bobby stated. 'Not quite, but close.'

'I sincerely doubt if they ever noticed, but that's a whole different issue', she said. 'But Southeast is the place we're talking about, notably a triangle roughly between the Naval Yards, 4th and the RFK Stadium.'

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They waited for her to tell more. 'I know you normally don't do this unattractive, low-tech muscle-work but lately it seems we have a surge of drug-related crimes. And it's stretching our resources. We've dealt with situations like this before, but this time it's stupendous. Like a tidal wave, and it's flooding downtown.'

'How eloquently put', Myles remarked.

'Well, this isn't the Big Easy. That was a catastrophe inflicted by mother nature, this is more human-made', Diana said when she faced Myles.

'So we're talking a white-out here', Bobby joked a little. Diana rolled her eyes when she faced the tall Aussie, though still somewhat amused. 'Okay, drop the visualizations and double-layers for a second. It's really worrying I can tell you.'

'What has changed recently, that makes it worse than it was?', Sue asked.

'We're not sure, but there's stuff out there that's bad. Very bad.'

'Isn't it always?', Myles inquired. 'I'm not very into this part of society, but aren't drugs always bad news?' Diana twisted her hands in a 'maybe' kind of way as if she was weighing her answer. 'Yes and no.'

Bobby frowned. 'At the same time?' She nodded. 'There's the difference between 'hard' and 'soft' drugs. Marijuana and stimulant mushrooms are considered 'soft', because use is without evidence of physical addiction. Some doctors prescribe it for their patients to relieve pain. Furthermore there's always been very little violence, crime and deaths amongst users.'

'So, basically smoking pot is okay?', Myles asked.

Diana held up her hands somewhat defensively. 'I didn't say that, and the view on it varies from where you live. Some states are more relaxed some are not. Some countries are relaxed, some not. All I can say is that it's just not a group of users that causes trouble.' She paused and gratefully accepted a cup of coffee Bobby handed her. 'Thanks', she smiled at him.

'Now hard-drugs is entirely different. And that's what we're dealing with in Southeast. Heroin, cocaine, crack, speed, you name it. There's PCP, or Angel Dust, which is not very widespread across the US, only available in some mayor cities. Unfortunately, DC is one of them, and PCP has been very prevalent in Southeast, partly substituted by crack.'

'But you've been battling that for years', Jack said.

'True, and that brings us to the matter I'm here for', Diana replied. She took a sip of coffee. She showed a DVD. 'Can I run this one somewhere?'

'Sure', Tara replied. 'I'll put it on the big screen.' She started the disc.

'In Southeast Asia problems have spiraled out of control when a new drug hit the market. In the Golden Triangle, but also elsewhere', Diana said as pictures of drug-addicts and drug-related offenses flashed by. 'It's called the 'Crazy Man's Drug' or 'Yaba'. It's extremely addictive, and the users are almost always becoming psychotic, extremely violent.'

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The screen showed Bangkok Police footage of situations where 'Yaba' users threatened to stab babies, children, sometimes even their own, fought wildly out of control with policemen, even heavily outnumbered, all when they where high of, or in desperate need. Many times the footage ended with people getting killed by either bullets or something else.

They watched with horror. The film stopped. Diana stepped in front of the screen.

'That's Asia. This time it's going to hit home. It's already hitting home.'

'This stuff from Asia?', Sue asked sounding shocked. Diana shook her head. 'No, not Y-A-B-A', she fingerspelled it for Sue. 'This is different but equally bad. There's no name for it, yet. But it comes in different shapes. We've found pills, like ecstasy ones, usually pink colored. There's also rumor of powder, used either as in cocaine-style or heroin. Either heated on a spoon and the fumes are smoked with a cigarette. Or injected with an IV.'

'We're not sure when it first came to the US but since it did, violence and crime has multiplied. Yesterday we had a bust in Southeast where we were actually capable of seizing some of this 'powder', together with a load of pills.'

'Might be worth to check it out', Jack offered.

'I thought you would be interested. DEA hasn't been down yet to brutalize suspects, or our detectives. Maybe before they do, you guys could find something useful', Diana said, smiling.

Myles was on his feet in seconds. Grabbed his coat and almost stormed out. But half-way to the door he stopped and turned, his face impish. 'Don't just stand there, people. Do something! I'll be darned if I let those DEA clowns trample evidence...'

'Not to mention your ego...', Bobby added mischievously


	6. Chapter 6

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A/N: some mild language, imagery too... just to let you know. Feedback makes me smile, people...

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Near 16th street SE and D street, 01.21 PM

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Bobby turned left when coming down D, and drove slowly into 16th street. A couple of youth who were hanging around at one of the houses, were staring at them, suspicious. Hooded sweaters, trainers, baggy hiphop jeans, some wearing blue bandanna's under their caps.

'Our welcoming committee', Bobby joked. He slowed down the car, the scene of the drug bust was just one house down.

NWA's 'Fuck tha police' blasted out of a ghettoblaster. The thugs were looking at Myles as if he was from another planet. Bobby said the same against Myles. 'Looking round I can't be sure either', the New Englander commented. 'We're sticking out like a sore thumb.'

'What yo doin' here?', one of the thugs said approaching them in a shuffling pace.

'We're looking for real estate', Myles stated dryly.

'Yeah? You on the wrong turf now, white-ass...'

'And you're in a lot of trouble if you don't sod off', Bobby said, flashing his badge.

'Leg it, LL Cool J.', Myles said and he brushed away the thug.

Jack came over, and pushed the guy against a car. 'If you're smart, you shut up and stay well clear.' The thug spread his arms. 'Yo, chill man, just guarding my grill.'

Myles frowned. 'One another of those phrases I'm unfamiliar with.' Bobby grinned. 'Can't be all Marlowe or Canterbury Tales, mate.'

They ducked under the yellow police tape and entered the premises, or better, what was left of it. The place was a mess. Garbage spilled everywhere, bags ripped open with decaying contents. The stench was awful, but nevertheless the agents proceeded. The walls, kicked in, ripped out, where smeared. Doors loosely hanging on their hinges.

The main room was scarcely lit with a little daylight filtering through blinds. It made everything gloom in gray tints, a ray of light fell across the room from a hole in the windowsill, provisory fixed with cardboard.

They could see their own breath coming out in clouds, inside it couldn't be much warmer than 42o F (5-6o C). A table was covered with aluminum-foil shreds, empty cans of alcohol, needles and syringes. 'Careful, this place is a hazard to your health', Jack said looking at the scene.

The rest of the house was even worse. A mattress that had once been white was brown-tinted and clogged with crusts, mold. A torn blanket was lying adjacent to it. Pieces of clothing in a corner, indicating the room once had been inhabited and people had slept there.

* * *

oOo

* * *

They heard noise coming from downstairs and Jack carefully walked down the stairs, hands on his weapon. 'Who the fuck are you?', a bald Afro-American, clad in a blue wind-breaker with a DCPD badge dangling on a cord round his neck, bawled at him.

Jack pulled out his ID. 'Jack Hudson, FBI, with whom do I have the honor?', he asked sarcastically. The man grunted. 'FBI, huh? Could have sworn those assholes from Drugs where here. I'm Rashawn Michaels.' He made a large movement with his arm gesturing at the scenery. 'This great part of town I'm privileged to call my office.'

'Lousy terms of employment', Jack grinned. The tall black man grinned too.

'Yeah. Forgot to read the small letters carefully.'

'They are printed that small for a reason.' Rashawn shoved his hands deep in his pockets, and let out a slow breath while he slowly eyed through the hall. 'You not alone.' He wasn't asking it but stated it. Jack nodded. 'They're upstairs.' Rashawn pursed his lips and nodded. 'One of you better get outside to watch your wheels, wouldn't be the first to come here by car and to leave on foot.' Bobby and Myles came down the stairs too. 'Rashawn Michaels, DCPD', Jack introduced them.

'The Third?', Rashawn couldn't help but to raise an eyebrow while scanning the blonde agent. 'Your parents must have ran out of names', he scoffed. 'Or forgot to buy the book of names, cause money can't be the one to blame.' Myles looked displeased. 'To what do I owe this enunciation, mister Michaels?', he said. 'Surely not something I said...'

Jack grinned, so did Bobby. Myles was undoubtedly not familiar with the down-to-earth style of conversation Michaels preferred. The difference in social environments between Bobby, Jack and others on the team was sometimes evident, but never it was as bluntly displayed as two world colliding as it was now. Rashawn laughed.

'Relax, man. I'm not dissing you.' Myles frowned. 'Dissing?...'

'Yeah, you know, disrespecting', Rashawn clarified. The blonde New Englander stared at the broad black detective, not even pretending to understand. Rashawn glanced at the others, his face expressing disbelief, irritation and amusement, all mixed into one. 'When did he crash on planet Earth?'

'Ah, mate, we're wondering that sometimes too', Bobby added mischievously. Jack had trouble to keep himself together and not laugh at the pained look on Myles' face. _Oh man, his day is getting from bad to worse..._

* * *

oOo

* * *

'So, what can you tell us about the bust', Jack said to relieve Myles' discomfort. 'Well, 's been a crack-joint for ages, we swept the place more times than a carpet gets vacuumed at the Ritz. Nothing big, though. Cheap ho's, hustlers, dope-heads.'

'This was a routine sweep?'

Rashawn shook his head. 'Uh-uh, we had a call someone got whacked.'

'Who?', Myles asked. 'Doe', Rashawn responded. 'Doe?', Myles asked not sure if he meant something else, with Rashawn's use of English you couldn't be sure _what_ he meant, he thought. Rashawn's face wrinkled a little, annoyed. 'John Doe's brother. Man I don't know his name. They're dropping like flies here. Who gives a shit.'

'Perhaps _you_ should', Myles stated irritated. The detective shot him a look. 'If you're working in this rat-hole longer than a week, trust me: you stop giving a shit.'

He shook his head in disbelief before he continued. 'Anyway, the guy's stretched, we go in and find the shit they've been tussling for. Got the others, at least one of the suspects.'

'He has already confessed?'

'It's a she, and no. But dancing around with a knife in your hand still wet with the guy's guts kinda makes you think.' Bobby rubbed his chin amused, he liked Rashawn's approach already. 'You've found this new stuff too, right?'

'Man, they were basically plowing their noses through it.' He took a cigarette out his pocket and lit it up, a cloud of smoke drifted towards Myles. Rashawn tapped his cigarette, ash landing on the floor. Myles pulled away his polished shoes to avoid any residue falling on them. Rashawn didn't even bother to look. 'It's a war-zone here. This new stuff is driving them crazy. It's worse than scag, and that's bad enough. They're pretty psycho when sailing the Love Boat, but this shit, man, it's...', he got interrupted by Jack.

'Eh, you lost us there.' Rashawn frowned. 'What?...'

'All this slang, drop us a line here', Bobby said.

'Scag is Heroin, what else didn't you get?', he asked.

'The ocean steamer part', Myles replied. Rashawn's face lit up with a smile. 'You're not bad after all, you know that?' Myles smiled a thin smile. 'That's PCP or Angel Dust. Mad stuff, I've seen people walking through walls, three inches of glass, bleeding like pigs, feeling zip.'

'And this new stuff is even worse?' The detective nodded and flipped away his fag. 'It's hell wrapped in an aluminum sheet. It sends them crazy.'

'There are pill and powder forms...'

'The pills look like Pink Panthers but they're not. Ecstasy', he explained. 'And it's not powder really, more like blue crystals.'

'Is there a name for it?', Jack asked. 'Blue Rage, is one of the names, or Razor. They're wild when they're high, or searching for it. That's why the rage, Razor you figure out pretty easily when you see them.' Rashawn paused and blew out a breath. 'Two days ago, on 21st we had one high on Razor. Slashed his girl, was going to cut his own goddamn kid, too. Tried to stop him, officers got attacked. He got shot twelve times, some even close range. Nothing, he kept on going. Ended up with his head blown off by a SWAT sniper with a fifty caliber.' He stared past the agents to nowhere in particular, slowly shaking his head.

'And these are just the first raindrops in a downpour...'

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**A/N: **Pink Panthers: Usually _Diphenhydramine/Dramamine_, refers to the pink color of _diphenhydramine_ preparations such a _Benedryl_, also available in tablets.


	7. Chapter 7

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A/N: continuation from where we left, Rashawn is just too much fun to write... Like you said pryrmtns, thanks for your review by the way... and the explanation about the Leland-link will come, don't worry... more reviews always welcome!

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Jack rubbed his brows, thinking. 'How long has this stuff been on the streets?'

The detective said nothing but took out a packet of chewing-gums. He offered, they declined. 'More for me', he said. 'To answer your question, I don't know.'

'Sure you must have some indication of time', Myles asked. Rashawn shrugged. 'Not longer than a year, max. I'd say a few months. Let's say since last summer.'

Bobby had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, he looked round and decided talking outside probably was better than spending more time in the ragged down house. 'Don't want to spoil the fun, but I'd rather stand outside, make sure those yobbo's won't mess with our wheels.'

Rashawn grinned, the tall Aussie was amusing. 'You better, a ride like that standing in this hood is nicked faster than you can say goddamn.'

'And I wasn't planning on saying that', Bobby grinned. They walked outside and stood in front of the house on the sidewalk. The thugs one house down had disappeared, having DCPD and FBI around probably wasn't very appealing audience. Rashawn sniffed. 'Air has cleared.' They looked at him puzzled. He gestured around. 'Amazing what a couple of bluebottles out on the street can do.' He mustered Bobby once again.

'You not from here either, like him', he waved his thumb to Myles who stood next to him. Bobby grinned. 'Nope, I'm from Down Under, mate.'

'How come you work here, with the Feds?'

'Has always been a dream, got the chance to actually do it when I came here', Bobby explained. Rashawn nodded, then his face lit up with a mischievous grin.

'That so, huh? Education should better get up to date, 'cause last time I checked, Australia used to be the place they dumped thugs and scumbags, not to be expected to return again.'

Bobby began to laugh, so did Jack and even Myles couldn't help but laugh. The broad-shouldered DCPD-detective might be streetwise, he wasn't dumb or uneducated either.

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oOo

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'About the suspects apprehended', Myles said, 'Where did they take them?'

'If it was up to me they'd be dumped on the way. But unfortunately the book doesn't approve of that. And neither does the 'Queen'. Jack chuckled. 'The Queen?'

'Yeah, hot miss Diana Grove', he grunted. 'She got you into this too.'

'Yes, she did. Old Spark here couldn't resist her azure eyes', Bobby joked only to get swatted by Jack. Rashawn raised his eyebrows. 'Spark, you into her?', he informed looking sceptical.

'Ah, don't worry, I'm already spoken for.'

Myles cleared his throat to get attention. They looked at him. 'About the suspects?...'

'First district 107.' Myles scribbled it down on a notepad, he frowned. 'Wasn't that all reorganized?', he asked Rashawn. The detective nodded.

'This rat-hole is now known as PSA 107. Two years ago they reorganized the precincts so I'm allowed to call this mess out here a Police Service Area.' He let out a hissing sound and chewed on his gum. 'Like people dig a new name and forget about the shit they're living in. Whatever they were thinking, it ain't working here.' They headed back to their car

'Before you run away from here, that's on 500 E Street SE.'

'Thanks, we'll keep in touch', Jack said when they walked back to their car.

'Whatever, as long as it keeps the dogs from DEA at bay, I'll dig any company.'


	8. Chapter 8

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A/N: A bit short, but I like this part to be short. It has more 'effect' and mystery this way...

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When they were back in the car both Jack and Bobby were still amused by their encounter with Rashawn Michaels. They could tell Myles probably didn't share their opinions.

'Well, that was entertaining', Jack summarized it. Myles shot him a skeptical look.

Bobby grinned. 'Looks like our Massachusetts Chickadee didn't like his song.'

Myles smiled. 'His use of English was...unorthodox. But very emotive and full of imagery.'

They drove down E Street and crossed Kentucky Avenue.

Absently Myles looked out of the window of the car. His eyes traveled down the sidewalk and into 14th when his breath stopped. _That looks like...that's..._

He shot up and unbuckled his seat belt. 'Stop the car!' Bobby glanced at him the second he shouted. 'What?...' Myles already had his hands on the door handle, ready to get out. 'Stop the car, Bobby, now!', he shouted. Bobby floored the brakes, the car screamed to halt, other traffic swung round or stopped short too.

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The second the car stopped Myles was out. _This can't be, that's impossible..._ He avoided other cars and ran to the other side of the street. Drivers pressed their horns, and were screaming profanities at the blonde agent when he recklessly crossed the street. Bobby and Jack jumped out too, perplexed. 'Myles, wait!', Jack shouted.

He thought he'd lost sight and frantically he began walking down 14th street, his movements agitated, almost haunted. In the distance he could see the figure walking, he began to run. His mind was working in overdrive as he tried to bridge the gap.

_It's her, but it can't be... not here,_ he lost sight again and stopped for a second, bewildered. _Where'd she go?... Maybe it wasn't..._ He ran a hand through his hair. His eyes suddenly fell on her again, when she went round a corner. Myles began to run again.

_It is her. Or isn't it? If only you could turn around...turn around!_, he screamed inwardly. He ran, his breath came out short and fast.

_Get a grip on yourself, there are probably millions who look like..., _he argued with himself and swerved round an elder lady. _Millions who look like her, but not as this. _He didn't loose pace, neither did he loose sight. But he couldn't get closer. _Why am I not catching up? Turn, baby, Turn!_ He turned another corner and ran a few feet and stopped.

_Gone..._ He swayed round 360 degrees, anxiously scanned the surroundings. The glum houses, the empty street stared back at him.

_Could I've been fooled by my imagination,_ he wondered, and took a few deep breaths to stop the pounding in his chest. _She did seem real to me, I could have sworn she was there...but why am I not able to find her again? Why couldn't I get closer? _He rubbed his face and blinked a couple of times, unsure about what he should do now.

_What was he chasing? An image, a ghost? No, it was real, I felt it, at least it felt real. Or didn't it? _He just stood there, coat hanging open, his hair ruffled.

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oOo

* * *

Finally Jack and Bobby caught up with him. 'What the hell happened?', Jack said breathless. 'What's wrong, Myles', Bobby asked.

Myles didn't respond and stared down the street. 'Myles...', Jack pulled on his sleeve, 'Myles!...' Absently he turned to look at them.

'What happened? Why did you ran off?'

'I, eh...I don't know...', he answered. Bobby eye's went wide. 'You don't know?' Slowly Myles shook his head. 'Mate, you nearly gave me a heart-attack in the car, ran like a madman across the street, only this close to being run over by at least three cars. Than you leg it once more, ends up looking haunted in the middle of a street and still you don't know?', the Aussie snapped sounding shocked. 'Myles what did you see?', Jack questioned.

_What did he see... he thought he saw someone. But did he? There was no trace, no evidence she walked here, or that it was unmistakably her for that matter. _

'I'm not sure.' Jack frowned, this wasn't like Myles. 'You saw someone you knew?'

'I'm not sure either, to be honest.' Bobby sighed and rubbed his eyebrow, agitated. 'Than, for heavens sake, why did you go after 'it'. Must have been bloody important.'

'It's nothing. I must have been mistaken.' He smiled an unwary smile. 'Let's get back to the car, okay?' They nodded and began to walk back.

Myles turned round to look down the street once more. Traffic was picking up again where it seemed earlier it had all disappeared, people walking by.

_It couldn't have been..._


	9. Chapter 9

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A/N: Here's some more (can't keep you waiting for too long). Reviews are verywelcome!

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DCPD Police Substation 1st district

500 E Street SE, Washington DC, 04.31 PM

* * *

The short ride to the police station was awkwardly silent. Although both Bobby and Jack still wanted to know what had possessed Myles earlier, they silently agreed to let it rest for now. Glancing over his shoulder Jack could tell Myles still hadn't regained his usual personality. His forehead was slightly wrinkled, as the blonde agent obviously was reliving the momentum.

Knowing him, Jack was certain he was tormenting himself over it. Inwardly he must be having an argument. For someone who always saw things from a rational point of view, he certainly wasn't the least overwhelmed by the strong emotion that suddenly had overcome him.

_Not that he didn't have a soft spot_, Jack thought. When they arrived at the police station, Bobby sort of expected Myles to clarify at least something about the strange events earlier. When he didn't made any attempts to, Bobby decided to break the silence.

'I've to admit, mate. You can be pretty quick, when you legged it earlier. That's convenient to know for me for later in any sports event.' Myles smiled. 'I prefer others to run, while I master the tactics.' Bobby chuckled. 'Yeah? Pretty lousy display of it last time, mate.'

They walked into the building.

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oOo

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Inside it was nothing like what they were accustomed to. No quiet corridors, people having civilized conversations in the hall. _A pandemonium _Myles thought the second he entered. He and Jack were brushed away by two officers dragging along a handcuffed man, who was not very willing to cooperate.

A corpulent sergeant hung over the desk holding a phone in his one hand while he wildly gestured to someone else. 'Beasley!... this is the fourth time I got this moron on the line. Didn't I tell you to blow him off?...', he yelled not even trying to muffle the horn. 'You better start making that fuckin' call, I've had it with 'em.'

He pressed the horn against his ear. 'You still on the line? Yeah? Of course you are, 'cause you ain't got shit to do...I'm putting you through.' He smashed the horn back on the receiver. Accidentally he knocked over a cup of coffee, it spilled over his desk streaming down and he shot backwards to avoid it to drip on his pants. 'Son-of-a-bitch...'

'Actually I would prefer Manning', Bobby commented dryly. The man looked up. 'What?'

'It's who, and I'll answer the question right away', Bobby replied. 'Special Agent Manning, FBI.' He showed his badge. The man's face changed from agitated to annoyed. 'Hey, I ain't got time for this, go stalk someone else...'

Jack interrupted. 'I believe we haven't had the privilege to introduce each other properly, sergeant...', he looked at the name-tag 'Mariano.'

The sergeant picked up a dripping sheet of paper and tossed it into the bin next to his desk. 'Now we have, what do you want?' Myles couldn't restrain himself. 'A bit more hospitality would be appreciated. Now if you could push aside that gruff, and start helping us, we can all go our separate ways and we'll be out of your hair within minutes. How about that?'

Mariano stared at him. 'Looks like you're having the same shit-loaded day as I have.' Myles rolled his eyes. 'We're here to help you out, not because we enjoy the scenery.'

'I can tell, not really your turf this, right?', Mariano replied while he mustered Myles. 'Not even within Cooee, mate', Bobby laughed. The sergeant's jaw dropped. 'He's from Australia, hence the lingo', Jack clarified laughing. 'Too right', Bobby said.

Mariano looked at him. 'The Wizard of Oz.' Bobby smiled broadly.

'Eh, let's get back to why we were here', Myles said. 'We've come to see this drugs you confiscated yesterday, from 16th street.' Mariano thought a little. 'Oh yeah, now I remember. Michaels' case. You met him?'

'Yeah, it was a ripper', Bobby said. 'So where to find it?' The sergeant looked round. 'Beasley!', he yelled. 'Show 'em what we got from the crackdown on 16th.'

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Beasley, wearing a grayish suit that had seen better days, walked over to the team. They followed Beasley through the station to a locked room. He opened the door. 'You just wanna see it?', he asked. 'We want to take it and run it through the lab', Jack said. Beasley seemed hesitant. 'I dunno if that's possible...'

'You want our help or not?', Myles said impatiently. The detective nodded. 'Then get us the documents for transfer so we can sign for it.' Beasley poked his head round the corner of the room and looked into the hallway. He waved for an officer to come over. 'Keep things in check.' The officer positioned himself near the door. Bobby looked insulted. 'We're with the law ourselves you Oik.'

Beasley shrugged. 'It won't be your ass that's gonna be fried if anything happens with this stuff. Just suck it up.' He walked away. The officer shrugged his shoulder looking somewhat apologizing. 'He's right, I'm afraid.' Myles rubbed his brows. 'Well, since we have a nanny around, might as well take a look.' He held up an evidence-bag with pills in it, mostly pink. 'Looks like this is it', he said.

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oOo

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Beasley came back with a bundle of documents. 'Ah...Fair suck of the sav!', Bobby said disbelieving when he looked at the pile of paper.

'Whatever...', Beasley said. 'Fill these in, then you can take it. No sooner, no later.'

Myles held up the bag. 'These are the pills?'

Beasley shook his head. 'Those are just pills, not _the_ pills. Pink Panthers, Smartees, 12 ouncers...' He pointed to a box in the corner of a top shelf. 'That's the load we got from 16th street.' Jack looked round at the shelves adjacent to it. 'What about the rest?'

Beasley shrugged. 'We're a bit late with waste disposal.' He grabbed the box, put it on a small table nearby and lifted the lid. Inside were a couple of bags, containing powder, pills, wrapped aluminum packages and a block wrapped in brown duck-tape. He picked out three bags. 'That's the stuff you want, the rest is the usual cocktail.'

It took them almost twenty minutes to fill in the transfer-documents. When they were done, Beasley handed them the three bags. 'Thanks', Jack said sarcastically.

Once in their car Myles was the first to say something again. 'We're sure we got the right bags? I mean, with all these very poetic names for it...' Jack nodded. 'The other stuff was coke, heroin, reminded me of the old days. No, we got the right bags, don't worry.'

'So', Bobby said as he steered the car down E street. 'Any chance we get news about you stunt earlier?' Myles sighed, he knew Bobby was right. 'To be honest, I didn't know _why_ I reacted the way I did.' Bobby glanced in his rearview mirror. 'But why did you get out anyway?' Myles rubbed over his cheek, trying to come with the right answer. 'Because I thought I saw someone I knew, someone I didn't expect to see in these surroundings.'

'Family?', Jack asked.

Myles made a helpless gesture. '_If _I saw it right, yes. Albeit I can't exclude the possibility I was carried away by some Fata Morgana, if you will.'

'But it could be?', Jack persisted. Myles pursed his lips and looked at him intently. 'I'm hoping for the latter option, but yes. It could have been Deanne...'

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oOo

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**A/N: **Smartees: Nickname for MDMA _3,4-Methylenedioxymethamphetamine_ also known as XTC (Ecstasy)  
12 Ouncer: capsules containing _Dextromethorphan_ or DXM, an antitussistive used in medicines like _Coricidin Cough and Cold_. It refers to the active amount of DXM.


	10. Chapter 10

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A/N: Another post. Things will go downhill from here...for Myles, for his family. Enjoy nevertheless and pryrmtns thanks for being so loyal with reviewing! Now I'm off to watch my favorite FC in a homegame: Vitesse.

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'Deanne...', Jack said thoughtfully, 'help us out here, she's...'

'My godchild, of my cousin Kyra', Myles clarified.

'What would she be doing here?', Bobby wondered out loud. 'That's exactly what I was thinking earlier today', Myles said. 'Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't Kyra live in Arlington?', Jack informed.

'Yes, and so does Deanne, she's on Washington-Lee. That's also in Arlington.'

Bobby nodded and quickly glanced in his mirror and swerved to the left to overtake a rusty Oldsmobile. 'Slacker, probably some old Veck', he said and looked to his right to see who was behind the wheel. 'Yeah, it's grandma all right.'

'But what would she be doing here in Southeast?', Jack said. 'That's what I'm thinking too, she's a hazard on the tarmac', Bobby replied. Myles frowned. 'I believe we're now discussing two very different topics.'

'Oh, yeah. Sorry mate. No, Jack's right about this too. If she's living in Arlington why would she be here on the streets of DC?' Myles shook his head. 'I wouldn't know.'

'All supposing it _was_ Deanne', Jack brought up. 'Something we're still not sure about.'

Myles nodded. 'You're right, is all guessing. That's why I was so confused about it. It seemed very real, but I can't rule out the possibility that I'm gravely mistaken.'

'Let's hope so', Jack added.

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oOo

* * *

They arrived at the Hoover Building, and Bobby parked his car in the usual spot.

Back in the Bullpen, Tara looked up when they came in. 'Hey guys. Catch anything?'

'Does chasing ghosts count?', Bobby replied. 'What?', she said confused. Bobby was about to answer when he felt a nudge. He turned to see Jack's forbidding expression. 'We got something, yeah', he said. Jack sat down at his desk. 'And we had some very interesting encounters along the way.'

Myles shot him a look. 'Whose use of our beloved language wasn't what I would call refined', he quipped. Bobby laughed. 'I didn't mind, though' Myles grinned. 'Of course you didn't, they didn't send the most brightest of minds Down Under, neither did they create a climate where the poetical spirits could survive. You felt right at home.'

'Ah, have a go yer Mug', Bobby said laughing. Jack leaned back in his chair and threw a paper pellet on Lucy's desk. 'Anything interesting happened when we were away, miss Dotson?'

She looked up and shot him a dark look. 'Has Sue still not managed to teach you some manners?', she sneered. He return her with a boyish smile. 'Boys will be boys.'

'Right. Anyway, to answer your question: no. Unless you count Randy showing up interesting.'

'How's our old paper-pusher?', Bobby said. 'He was handing over a memo about something very minute, I couldn't even be bothered to take a look', she said sounding bored.

Jack looked round. 'Hey, where's D.?'

'He and Garrett are having a meeting with senior HD officials, making sure we all are working together, instead of working against each other', Lucy said.

Jack nodded. 'And Sue?'

'In a briefing with junior-profilers from Quantico. But she'll be back any second.'

'Right, I'm off to the Lab to have the drugs we took analyzed.' He picked up the bags and left. 'Be right back.'

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oOo

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When he got back, Sue was sitting at her desk making notes. He walked over. Levi looked up and pawed her. She looked up. 'Hey', she said and gave him her radiant smile. 'Hey love', he said. He kissed her on her cheek. She smiled. 'That's it?' He smiled back and leaned over to kiss her lips. 'How did your meeting go?', he said. 'They were very interested, so I think I've been able to help them out.' She looked at him. 'How did your trip work out?'

'It seems Diana was right. Things are becoming nasty.' Sue wiggled her pencil between her fingers. 'What else?' Jack glanced in Myles' direction. "NOT NOW _there's more, but I'll tell you when we're home_", he signed. Sue's face turned worried. "WHAT HAPPEN?", she asked.

"M-I-L-E-S, HIM WORRY ABOUT FAMILY". He tapped her hand and his eyes signaled they would discuss this later. Sue nodded. She took his arm. 'One more, just for fun', she said and kissed his lips. 'What time are you done?', he asked. 'Today's quiet so I think within an hour or so.'

'Good.'

'You into ordering something?', she asked when he walked back towards his desk. He turned round to face her. 'I'm too lazy to cook tonight', Sue said smiling. 'Sure, we'll grab something on our way back home, have a glass of wine', he replied.

* * *

Kevin's place

Near 13th street andSavannah StreetSE, Washington DC, 05.41 PM

* * *

It was not like the places where she normally would have gone, a bit shabby. But nevertheless she went in along with Suzy and Meredith. There were more people in the house, but she knew none of them except for Mike and David. She sat down on a couch and David handed her a bottle of beer. 'Thanks', Deanne said.

'So, first timer, huh', a slim brown-hair guy wearing a Death Metal T-shirt said. Deanne looked at him. 'No, not really.' The guy didn't seem convinced. 'Then what's your taste? Scag? Special K? Or are you just the nice high-school girl who has done nothing more than just puffing Indo?'

Deanne looked at him feeling repulsed. 'Why?'

'Because you seem one not ready to go all the way.' He pulled out a little plastic bag with some pills in it. 'I mean, this is the shit. All the way from Europe.'

Suzy got exited. 'That's what this guy had last weekend. That stuff is awesome.'

'I thought you didn't take it?', Meredith said. Suzy shrugged. 'So I lied.' The guy nodded. 'Yeah, forget your spliff, and V. This is way better. Here you try it.'

'This is like ecstasy or something?', Deanne asked. 'Yeah, but better. The trip is way better.'

He handed her a pill. 'You can also crumble it and then sort of smoke it, but that's too much trouble for me. I don't want to get tired to get a good fix.'

Deanne put the pill in the pocket of her trousers. She took a sip of beer. They had been in DC all afternoon, skipping class. David had taken them on a sort of sightseeing tour for the 'cool places' as he called it. He had heard of a house-dealer that had some good weed. They had spend some time there, when the man showed them various types of weed. More than they had seen or heard of before.

Superskunk, BC Bud, Afghani and the very powerful Nederwiet. The man said that was like the best around, very high in THC. It wasn't cheap, because it had to be imported from the Netherlands. 'If you want something less expensive but still loaded with THC you should take the BC Bud', the dealer said. So they took that.

* * *

oOo

* * *

'Here you go', Mike said when he handed her a joint. She lit it and started to smoke it. Immediately she could tell this was indeed very powerful stuff. But very, very nice. She took a long haul, let the smoke roll in her mouth like she was chewing it and slowly breathed the smoke out through her nose. She felt light in her head, almost like she was floating. The room seemed livelier and more colorful.

Her muscles in her neck and upper arms were loosening up and she leaned back on the couch. She slowly blinked when the table turned into a bright orange translucent object. She could hear traffic on streets far away, but at the same time she wasn't following a discussing within three feet from her. The smoke filled her lungs, giving her a heated feeling, so she took a sip of her beer.

Suddenly she felt like dancing. But because the couch was too relaxed she didn't got up. David crashed into the couch next to her and she started to laugh very loud. David too was high on god knows what. He leaned over to her and let his fingers travel down her neck. She pushed him away, or at least she tried to.

'Dave, stop acting like a moron', she giggled. 'You're so cool', he replied. 'I'm in love with you I think.' She looked at him and then they both laughed. 'Give me some what you're having.' David fell back on his side when he tried to grab something. 'Shit, wait a sec', he muttered.

'Mike...Mike!', he poked his friend. 'I'm out of it, you got some?'

Mike handed him a thin package of wrapped aluminum. 'Be careful, man. This shit ain't cheap.' David mustered it, swaying somewhat. 'Looks kinda funny, Mike.'

'Here let me do it, just add it with your tobacco, like this', he said and he mixed some of the bluish crystal-powder with some tobacco. Then he rolled a cigarette of it. 'Smoke it and fly, baby', he said grinning. David gave Deanne the cigarette. 'He didn't have the grass anymore. But this is cool too.'

She stared at it. 'You sure?' He nodded. 'Can't hurt to try, it's only one cigarette.' He took it and smoked it. Then he gave it to her. She hesitated a little bit. 'Come on, it's good.'

She shrugged and put the cigarette between her lips. _Can't be that bad, besides it's only one cigarette...

* * *

_

oOo

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**A/N: **Special K: _Ketamine_ a general dissociative anaesthetic used for human and veterinary purposes. It's very similar to PCP.  
It has the same effects as PCP or DXM. In low doses a user must be in the dark to see hallucinatory effects. With higher doses the effects are strong. It can veray from feeling disconnected to the environment up to the body itself. Movement is very difficult and effects on ones coordination are lasting up to 24 hours after the initial trip.

Superskunk: smells very strong, hence the name.  
Afghani: the original hashish from Afghanistan.  
BC Bud: Strong cannabis from Vancouver (British Columbia: BC), high on THC, but less stronger than  
Nederwiet: Very powerful cannabis from the Netherlands. Growth is almost scientifically monitored in lab conditions to achieve the highest amount of THC.

THC: _delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol_ the substance responsible for the 'trip'. When using cannabis the buds are mixed with the cigarette. The THC in the buds causes the 'high'. When cutting buds, or crushing them with your fingers: the lightly colored, almost translucent, fluid that comes out is pure THC. Exposed to THC in this form one can get 'stoned' without smoking it. Being in a room for a extended period of time is sufficient

* * *

**P.S. **Well, a lot of 'scientific info', but it helps to understand, I think. Let me know what you think.

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	11. Chapter 11

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A/N: A bit of a short one, but more is bound to come.

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Leland-Henderson Residence

1900 N Quebec Street, Arlington VA, 07.00 PM

* * *

Robert laid down the phone. He stared at it for a while. He had tried to get hold of her, since their fight yesterday he nor Kyra had talked to her again. She hadn't come home that night. She hadn't answered her phone during the day, and tonight was no exception. He rubbed a hand through his hair.

He expected her to be away for tonight, and it made him feel helpless. _God knows what she's doing, where she is..._

Kyra walked in. 'No luck?', she asked. He shook his head. 'She won't answer, it's not even on.' She could hear the worry in his voice. 'I'm sure she's with her friends.' That didn't comfort him at all. 'I'm not sure whether those friends are the best company. I'm seriously thinking to have her grounded for a while', he said. 'You think that will help?', his wife asked when she sat down next down to him. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. 'I don't know, but it can't hurt to try to talk some sense into her while she's here.' Kyra frowned a little. 'And to have her grounded you think she'll listen. I don't know... Teens can get very rebellious when their freedom and their independence is hindered. Especially by their parents.'

She smiled. 'At least the trick never really worked with me, and with your Celtic genes I somehow doubt it worked with you.' His face expressed amusement. 'Aye, me lass', he said with a Scottish accent. 'Sort of reminds me of an old one from family reunions. Sings of the bad characters of men. For some dark reason my mother use to phrase it a lot when I was just a wee lad.' He took her hands and looked melodramatically.

'_I daurna for mae mammie ga'e. She locks the door an' keeps the key, and e'en and maurnin' charges me, and aye aboot the men. She says they're a'deceivers, we canna trust to ane._'

She rolled her eyes, laughing. 'Do you always have to fall into your 'Robert the Bruce' mode whenever Celts are concerned or mentioned?' She playfully touched his nose. 'Not that I don't like you doing it, though.'

He kissed her cheek and got up. 'I know. Let's have dinner.' She got up too. 'I'm sure Deanne will call where she's staying. She wouldn't want us to worry.' Inside he thought otherwise but he didn't want to show it, so instead he just smiled a little smile. 'She's still our bairn.'

* * *

oOo

* * *

It was a while later the phone rang. It was Mitchell who answered it. 'Hey Mitch', his sister said. 'I'm staying over at Suzy tonight.'

'Okay, you want to talk to mom and dad?', he asked. 'No, not really.'

Kyra heard her son talking on the phone and figured it could only be Deanne. She gestured for her son to hand over the phone. He did. 'Hey dear, how are you?', she asked carefully. 'Okay, but I'm staying with Suzy tonight.' Kyra frowned a little, she had met Suzy once or twice and wasn't particularly fond of her. 'Your dad and I were worried today about you...'

'I'm okay, mom', she sounded distant and annoyed. 'I gotta go, they're waiting...' She hung up. _Who are waiting, where are you going? _Kyra thought.


	12. Chapter 12

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A/N: Sorry for the long time in between posts, I'm doing all sorts of things at the same time. But here's some more. There will be more asap (no, really :).

As usual: Italic conversations are signed, capitalized is actual ASL. Reviews very welcome, as always.

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oOo

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Hudson Thomas residence

965 Westminster Street NW, Washington DC, 07.40 PM

* * *

It was Jack who was a little later, Sue was already home. He had dropped by the China Dragon on 11th street NW and ordered something for him and Sue. He was heartily greeted by Levi. 'Hey, boy, go get Sue', he said rubbing his fur. The dog trotted over to Sue who was in the kitchen and pawed her. She turned round. 'Hi, Jack.' He dropped the bag on the kitchen table and pressed a kiss on her lips. 'Hi love', he responded.

"HOW YOU?", he informed and he dropped his car keys on the table too. "_And don't just sign I'm hungry_", he joked. She rolled her eyes, amused. She kissed him again. "ME FINE", she responded. "YOU SAME?" He nodded. She unpacked the bag, walked into the dining-room and put the food on the dining table. He searched for the corkscrew but couldn't find it. He looked into the room, Sue was busy unpacking the little boxes, arranging the plates and cutlery. He flashed the light. She looked up.

"WINE BOTTLE cl: 'C'", he made a pulling motion, "PUT WHERE?", he asked. She held it up. 'Ah', he said. 'Table is done, are you coming?', she informed. He walked over with the wine and sat down. Sue sat down opposite him. He poured her a glass, and then himself.

Levi looked up with eager eyes. Sue smiled at him. 'Nothing for you boy, you've had your dinner.' Jack chewed on a king prawn. "_And for the money his dinners cost, we could be at Galileo's now_", he joked. Levi laid his head between his paws, no luck tonight.

* * *

oOo

* * *

Sue took a sip of her wine and looked at Jack. "M-Y-L-E-S OKAY?"

He pursed his lips somewhat. "HIM WORRY ABOUT FAMILY" he responded.

"WHY?", she looked concerned. "WHAT HAPPEN NOW-DAY?"

He thought of the right way to describe what had happened. "_When we came back from the site of bust DC Metro had made he suddenly jumped out of the car and ran across the street chasing someone..._", he signed with vivid expression and motions, imaging the suddenness of it and the pace in which things had developed. She frowned during his explanation, looking worried. "_That doesn't sound like the Myles I know..._"

Jack held his 'Y' hand, palm facing left in front of his chest and moved it straight forward and backwards in a double motion. "I AGREE WITH YOU", meanwhile he nodded.

"_And it gets even stranger, he bolts away down 14th street leaving Bobby and me well behind. When we finally catch up with him, he looks almost haunted._" Sue had stopped eating when Jack told her what had happened. "_We ask what had happened, and he can't even begin to give an explanation. Saying he was mistaken._"

She bit her lip, thinking. It didn't sound like the sedate, rational Myles she had grown to know. He did have a soft side, one he rarely shared or maybe was reluctant to share. To others he might seem aloof, but Sue knew he wasn't. He had given her insight in it through time.

"HIM DESCRIBE WHY?", she asked. Jack nodded. "_But only when we came back from the police station. He feared the person he saw might have been his godchild, Deanne._"

He took a sip of his wine and looked solemn. Sue was thinking over it. "_He saw Deanne in SE?_" Jack shrugged a little. "_That's what he thought anyway_", he signed.

"_But why would she be there?_", she asked. He raised his brows and shook his head. "_Beats me, it makes no sense at all._"

* * *

oOo

* * *

"D-E-A-N-N-E HER LIVE A-R-L-I-N-G-T-O-N?", she informed. "_Still living with her parents_", he added. She nodded thoughtfully. "_Why would he be thinking she would be so far off in a bad neighborhood?_" She took a bite of her sweet and sour chicken. Jack motioned with the bottle of wine. She nodded and he refilled her glass.

Then she held her right hand in an 'I' handshape palm facing in on the right side of her forehead and moved it forward in a short double motion. "SUPPOSE, _it was Deanne after all. What is Myles so worried about?_"

She looked at her husband. "_It's a bad neighborhood, I'd be concerned too_" he responded. "_But he was more than concerned, it sounds like he was afraid of something. You think it might be related to the case you're working on?_"

Like always she had managed to lay her finger on the spot. She had always been very good in connecting things together, look through the façade, beyond the usual. It were those abilities that had helped Jack and his team in many cases in the past. And it had put her into her job as Senior Profiler with the Bureau, where she trained agents to refine their investigating techniques. She still worked together with Surveillance whenever it was necessary.

He smiled at her. She had said the thing he had just begun to consider. "_I think you might be right, as usual_", he signed the last words with a wink. She laughed. "_But he hasn't said it in so many words, though._" Sue nodded and patted his hand.

"TOMORROW ME ASK M-Y-L-E-S WILL"


	13. Chapter 13

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A/N: Another post, somewhat technical though educational (I hope). Anyway, I had good fun writing this. Note: my days as a mad scientist are some time ago, so if anything (scientific) stated in this post is not correct let me know. Next post will be like this, or better (or worse if your average score for science was an F :))

Oh: just in case: the few lines put in between brackets within a quote are my notes to clarify it little more.

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oOo

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The Bullpen, J. Edgar Hoover Building

935 Pennsylvania Ave NW, Washington DC, Wednesday 08.59 AM

* * *

He saw at the bottom of his screen he had a message. Jack clicked on it. It was from the FBI Lab, apparently they had already tested the drugs and had some results they wanted to share. He whistled at Bobby. 'Our science boys knocked themselves out, yesterday.' 

'Eureka, mate. What did they do?', he responded.

'They already ran a test on the drugs we got yesterday. They want to share the results. Care to join me?', Jack asked. Bobby shrugged. 'Sure, I can do with a walk.'

Myles was filling in some forms when Jack walked over to him. 'Lab's got results, want to go?' He held up a sheet of paper. 'Well, if I could, but our dear mister Pitts cares more about paper then anything else.' Jack did a poor attempt to look like he had pity on him, but failed to convince.

'The true hero who works behind the scenes and provides the nourishing environment for us agents to work...', he quoted Myles' infamous speech.

It got him a dark look from the New Englander. 'It got me an award. Which makes me remind you that you still owe me for this luscious loft we're still privileged to work in.' Jack grinned and patted his shoulder comforting. 'Anytime.'

'And thanks for the support', Myles added when they walked out.

* * *

oOo

* * *

They arrived at the lab. And when they were allowed through they were met by the Lab Supervisor, Jo Daniels. 'Ah there you are. We did some basic tests on the drugs you gave us. With interesting results. Here let me show you.' She walked over to another large room where others were working. 'You recognize this stuff?', Bobby asked her. 'Well we analyzed it, using various resources. We were able to define the individual components by a mass-spectrometer.' She showed them a chart. To Bobby it looked like irregular peaks in different colors. 'Yeah, everything's clear to me now', he said jokingly.

Daniels rolled her eyes. 'I'll spare you the technical details. But let me explain how it works, simplified of course.' She held up the chart.

'A sample, drugs or anything else, can be 'read' if you like. Different chemicals have different masses, and this fact is used in a mass spectrometer to determine what chemicals are present in a sample. It is vaporized (turned into gas) and ionized (broken down) into electrically charged particles, called ions, in the first part of the mass spectrometer.'

' They also have a charge, which means that they can be moved under the influence of an electrical field or magnetic field. These ions are then sent into an ion acceleration chamber and passed through a slit in a metal sheet. A magnetic field is applied to the chamber, which pulls on each ion equally and deflects them (makes them curve instead of traveling straight) onto a detector. '

' The detector measures exactly how far each ion has been deflected, and from this measurement, the ion's 'mass to charge ratio' can be worked out. From this information it is possible to determine with a high level of certainty what the chemical composition of the original sample was.'

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oOo

* * *

She paused and looked at them. 'Still with me?', she asked smiling. 'Only just', Jack commented.

'That's basically the process behind mass spectrometry, simplified of course.'

'Of course', Bobby said grinning. Daniels pointed at a machine. 'Now this one is one of the most recent developments. It's an Orbitrap mass spectrometer.'

'Orbitrap?'

'Yes, it's been introduced not very long ago, they're commercially available since 2005. They're very sensitive, have a high mass accuracy and a broad dynamic range. Remember the ions?'

They nodded. 'Good, well, with the Orbitrap they're electrostatically trapped in an orbit around this central electrode', she pointed at a spindle shaped pin. 'Hence the name. '

' Basically it performs two kinds of movements in parallel: First, the ions cycle in an orbit around the central electrode. Second, they also move back and forth along the axis of the central electrode. Thus, the ion movement resembles a ring that oscillates along the axis of the spindle. This oscillation generates an image current in detector plates which is recorded. The frequencies of these image currents depend on the mass to charge ratios of the ions in the Orbitrap...'

'Ehm, you kinda lost us here, love', Bobby said.

'Mass to charge ratios is a physical quantity which is measured in mass spectrometry. We use the Dalton Scale to measure the 'weight' of the atoms. But we do not actually 'weigh' them, but we compare their different weights, or better: mass.'

'And then...?'

'Then we measure the intensity of the ions versus the mass-to-charge ratio. That's what is known as a Mass Spectrum. In this device the detector records the charge induced or current produced when an ion passes by or hits a surface. In a scanning instrument the signal produced in the detector during the course of the scan versus where the instrument is in the scan will produce a mass spectrum, a record of how many ions are present. '

' Hence, the mass spectrum of a sample is a pattern representing the distribution of components (atoms or molecules) by mass (more correctly: mass-to-charge) in a sample.'

'And that's what is portrayed here?', Bobby said pointing at the chart. 'Yes', she said.

'And what exactly does this tell you?', Bobby asked.

'The various components of the sample, or in this case the drugs.'

She looked at them with a twinkle in her eyes. 'Ready for some more technical details?'

'Sure, I like the source.' She smiled at him.


	14. Chapter 14

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A/N: The next post, as promised. More science, medical this time. Checked to the best of my knowledge, but flaws do happen. Spotted one? Let me know. Okay, well, even if Biology/Science wasn't your _forte_: enjoy anyway.

Oh, btw. If you see any errors in grammar etc. Let me know, I might be writing in English, my genes are not. Thanks!

The few things in between brackets in a quote are my notes.

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oOo

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'The sample you gave contains multiple synthetic substances. Now we could be very detailed about it, but that's not relevant now. I'll just take out the highlights.'

Jack chuckled. 'Interesting term.' Daniels rolled her eyes. 'Well, most prevalent are various Amphetamine-strings. They're not all the same, but they are related, that's why we call it a 'string' or a family. These pills are made up of multiple substances. We've found PMA (_P-methoxyamphetamine_), MDMA or what is known as XTC together with _Pseudoephidrine, _there's also trace of DXM (_Dextromethorphan_), it's a cocktail that's highly addictive because of the amphetamines, and it's dangerous too because of the mix of p_seudoephidrine_ and DXM.'

'And why is it so dangerous?', Bobby informed.

'DXM and _pseudoephidrine_ together can give extremely high blood pressure and also it can causes strokes and heart-attacks. _Ephidrine _in higher doses can cause Tachycardia, Arrhythmia's, Angina pain and psychoses and dizziness.'

'DXM in high doses can be lethal.' She took a sip of a cup of tea before continuing. 'I'm afraid I'll have to use some medical terms here.' Bobby and Jack simultaneously shrugged. 'As long as you keep it basic, we won't run away', Bobby joked. Daniels nodded.

* * *

oOo

* * *

'DXM works on the liver where it is metabolized by, amongst others but this one is well known, the specialist catalyst enzyme Cytochrome P450 (CYP), in this case the 2D6-string. That's why this enzyme is referred to as CYP2D6. Now, you can forget about the enzyme...' 

'We will', Jack responded.

'...I'm sure you do. By the way, Metabolism is the chemical modification or degradation of chemicals (inactivation). The breaking down of the substances, if you will.'

'The problem with this enzyme is that a significant portion of the US population have a functional deficiency in this enzyme, and are know as 'poor' CYP2D6 metabolizers. You can't fix it, it all comes down to genes.'

She stirred in her cup of tea and looked at them before she continued. 'And that's were problems arise: with CYP2D6 being the primary pathway in metabolizing _Dextromethorphan_, the effects and duration of DXM is significantly increased with 'poor' CYP2D6 metabolizers. Resulting in deaths and hospitalization when used recreationally.'

* * *

oOo

* * *

'The powder is something else?', Jack informed. Daniels shook her head. 

'Not really, but the quantities are higher of each substance and the effects are much stronger when injected or smoked. Part of the pills are broken down in the stomach before it becomes effective. With the powder, and it's way of use, it's directly active.'

'Pretty nasty stuff, then...'

'A very, _very_ bad cocktail', she said.

'Anything else about it you've found out?', Jack informed.

'Well, now you mention it', Daniels walked over to a file-cabinet and took out a file. 'These substances, and it's way of preparation did strike us as something we have seen before.' She took out another file. 'Remember Operation X? The Bureau and DEA cracked down on this XTC-cartel in Miami, in 2003. We cooperated with the Dutch Police back then.'

'Yeah, that stuff came from Holland', Bobby said flipping through the file. Daniels nodded.

'In the Netherlands they have a special Synthetic Drugs Unit, specialized in tracking down manufacturers of synthetic drugs in the country. This SDU is the best in the world when it comes to research and intelligence. There are mayor similarities in the preparation of the drugs we busted in 2003 and the drugs we tested now.'

'They're from the same manufacturer in Holland?'

'It could be, yes. We've sent some samples to the Netherlands to have them take a look at it. But my guess is that it is the same one.'

'Right. Well, let's find out what our Dutch friends come up with. Thanks for your time and efforts', Jack said when they made their way out of the Lab.

* * *

The Bullpen, 11.30 AM

* * *

'And?', Demitrius asked when they walked back in. 'Ehm, you want the whole detailed story or just the version I can actually remember?', Bobby responded. 

'I opt for the detailed version.'

'Well, I can't promise the full monty, but I'll give it a fair dinkum burl', Bobby offered. D. scowled a little and looked at Jack first and then at the Aussie. 'I think all this Australian slang meant you will try...'

'Too right.' Jack rolled his eyes, every now and then Bobby fell back into his old 'Ozzie-mode', especially after he had talked to his family on the phone. Jack had to grin when he remembered what Bobby always said after a phone call: 'I've had a bonzer convo with my oldies'

'All right. Spill it', D. said.

'No worries, but where's Myles? He would like to hear it too.'

'He's off to vent some steam, to Randy probably', Tara said when Bobby looked around.

'Better him than me.'

'You're sympathizing with Randy?'

'Ey? No, I was expressing my sympathy with Myles. But anyway, what they told us was that this drug is a beautiful mixture of various other synthetic drugs. Made to be addictive and probably from the Netherlands. They've send a sample to the Dutch Police for further examination.'

Demitrius nodded, 'I'm sure they told you much more details, but I'll stick with this.'

Bobby held up his hands in surrender. 'Mate, it was bloody hard yakka to keep up with her, let alone remember all the details.'


	15. Chapter 15

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A/N: Okay, new post. I'll divide my attention evenly over all the stories. I think I will, anyway. Nothing more unpredictable then a writers' mind. I felt like posting some more on this one.

Moreover because I passed my DSL course 2 exam Wednesday, and I dare say a score of 72.5 out of 80 max is not bad, eh?

He en Lamako, erg tof dat ik ook gewoon Nederlands kan typen, hoef ik die arme Amerikanen en alle andere niet meteen een vertaling aan te bieden. Je zal dit verhaal wel gewoon in Engels moeten lezen (net als alle andere), het is anders niet eerlijk voor de rest, nietwaar? Je mag je berichten ook in het Engels zetten, als je wilt. Hoeft niet natuurlijk, maar is ook wel aardig voor anderen. Nederlands is helaas geen wereldtaal (meer). Misschien ooit, op een mooie dag...

For those of you wondering whatever the... he's writing above: it turned out Lamako happens to be Dutch and living within a short distance of the settlement I reside, go figure... Now, you'll see Dutch above chapters every now and then. I won't translate it, except when it concerns the story: then it will always be in English (too).

Unless you _really really_ want me to translate.

Note: The Italic lines in quotes are signed, the Capitalized words and sentences are actual ASL. Feedback, as always, welcome. Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing.

* * *

oOo

* * *

Meanwhile Myles, on his way back from Randy's office, ran into Sue and Levi in the hall. She had just arrived from an early business lunch with various officials from the FBI, Gallaudet University and the Minister of State of Education, to discuss the possibilities of schooling talented students into highly qualified profilers, forensic analysts and ICT-specialists through a special program offered at Gallaudet.

'Hey, Myles', she said. He looked round, his annoyed face lit up when he saw her, he felt the irritation over Randy ebbing away. Sue was someone who had this effect on him, whenever he saw her.

'Hi, Sue', he said. "HOW YOU?", he signed.

"ME FINE", she responded. "YOU SAME?"

He shrugged somewhat. "MAYBE. ME VISIT R-A-N-D-Y FINISH"

She began to laugh. Randy and Myles weren't exactly what you would call 'friends'. _To be honest, they weren't even close to being just colleagues_ she thought amused. _Sworn enemies would be more accurate._

'Let me guess', she said sympathetically. Myles' mouth curled into a smile. 'Guess as much as you please Mrs. Hudson.' Sue bit her lip. 'I probably don't want to know, do I?'

He shook his head. He was about to ask her if she was heading for the office, but she beat him to a pace. 'Myles, could you spare a minute?'

'Sure, for you more than a minute', he said and smiled. Sue returned his smile. 'Somewhere private?'

He lifted one eyebrow, but nodded.

* * *

oOo

* * *

They found a room where they could sit down undisturbed.

He sat down. Sue pulled over a chair and sat in front of him. Levi positioned himself near Sue's feet. Myles waited, expectantly.

"YESTERDAY WHAT HAPPEN FINISH?", she asked him, knowing he understood and signed a fair amount of ASL, something no one, besides Sue and Jack, really knew.

He hesitated a little. She saw it and laid her hand on his arm.

He looked at the blonde with her soft features, her kind nature and her gracious ways of reaching out to people who needed it the most.

* * *

oOo

* * *

He knew he could expose his inner self to her. He had done it before, the first time when he had a panic-attack after being shot when they were after Ahmed Alazir and their raid was leaked by an intern at the Washington Post who had access to classified information.

She had found him in the staircase where he had retreated, to avoid the others, not wanting them to see the vulnerable side of Myles. She had helped him to find peace again. Something he was utterly grateful for.

She didn't judge, but offered a helping hand, one he couldn't refuse. Ever since their bond had grown stronger. As a matter of fact, she had changed him. Before that he never let anyone come near, she had shown him that reaching out for help wasn't an act of cowardliness, nor failure.

* * *

oOo

* * *

"J-C-K, HIM TELL WHAT HAPPEN FINISH?"

She nodded. "_But I want you to tell it to me yourself._"

His expression changed somewhat, looking a bit pained. "ME NOT KNOW, _it was really confusing, and I'm still not sure whether it is true or not._" He looked into her eyes. She read the uncertainty in his eyes. Genuine bewilderment.

"D-E-A-N-N-E, _you thought you saw her in that street, didn't you?_" He nodded and meanwhile he moved his right 'S' hand up and down by bending the wrist in a repeated movement.

"_What made you so sure?_"

"_That's the problem, I'm not. But at the same time, I am sure. And it's worrying me, Sue... What if I was right? What would that mean?_"

She bit her lip. "HER NEED HELP WILL, _if you're right. I'm worried too about it, and so is Jack._"

The tall Bostonian looked at Sue, his expression soft. "_You don't have to be..._", he started but Sue shook her head. "M-Y-L-E-S, _me and Jack care as much for Deanne as we do for you._"

He was touched by her remark and signed a heartfelt "THANK YOU".

* * *

oOo

* * *

He knew she meant every word, that she would be there to poise his tormented soul when matters would grow dark. She would try to lift the burden of guilt he undoubtedly would have, something in which she would succeed, he had experienced before.

In Jack, his team-leader and her husband, in him he would find the more 'hands-on-approach', the one who would take actions, who would kick down doors whenever they had to.

And although Myles was not someone who relied to others to take care of things for him, he felt reassured he had at least two people whom he could turn to whenever he couldn't take the weight alone anymore.

He felt how she touched his arm gently to get his attention again. He looked at her.

"_Don't fight it alone Myles. We are there for you, don't forget that._"

"ME KNOW", he replied.

He got up, and so did Sue and he hugged her, as an act of deeply rooted friendship. Before she let go of him she kissed his cheek and she looked at him smiling. "YOU CALL K-Y-R-A WILL, PROMISE?" He nodded returning a smile.

"_Shall we go to the office again?_", she asked and took Levi's leash. The golden furred dog got up.

Just when she was about to turn around and head for the door, he held on to her. She looked back at him. "S-U-E", he signed. "THANK YOU. YOU J-C-K BEST FRIEND"

She tapped his hand reassuringly. "_That's what friends are for._"

* * *

oOo

* * *

When they arrived at the Bullpen, Jack looked up at them. He glanced at his wife, his eyes questioning. Sue answered his unspoken question ever so subtle. He smiled. Then he observed Myles, his eyes following him when he moved, his actions, gestures. Jack felt relief when he saw the old Myles was back again, obviously Sue had touched him, comforted him. It took away the unrest he felt too.

Though he realized at the same time he and Myles, and in fact the team as a whole, had to be on their qui vive. Ignorance would be bliss, especially now.


	16. Chapter 16

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A/N: Warning: images of strong violence, use of narcotics and swearing. Bilingual, but nevertheles swearing.

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oOo

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Kevin's place  
Near 13th Street and Savannah Street SE, Washington DC, 01.10 PM

* * *

Things had started out quite normal, but were now spiraling out of control. Even through her haze she noticed the changing of the atmosphere. They had been partying all night, drinking excessively, consuming narcotics too. At some point in time, her memory of things that had happened seemed to have vaporized into thin air. Only to be filled in by blanks. She couldn't remember what she had taken, or drank. Imagination and reality were all mixed into one confusing mixture, and it was not clear anymore which had been what.

But this time, reality kicked in pretty quickly.

* * *

oOo

* * *

She had woken up, dazed, her mind and body swaying, by agitated voices echoing through the open door of the room she found herself in. She tried to get up, but fell back. She blinked once, twice to get rid of the blur in her vision. She squinted her eyes to the stinging rays of the sun that shone through the curtain-less window. Once again she tried to get up again and succeeded. Swaying, she made her way to the door to take a gander of what was happening outside the room.

In the hall she saw David arguing with an agitated Latino guy she couldn't remember whether she had seen him before. He was wearing a pair of black workers and a white shirt.

David was staring at the guy, his eyes wide, obviously still in a trip. The other guy suddenly made her feel unnerved. His menacing attitude made the air feel like it was electrically loaded. David seemed unaware of it, he was even teasing the smaller Latino he called 'Paquito', obviously to the others discomfort.

She caught parts of their discussion. Apparently David had done something he shouldn't have. It seemed he had taken drugs from the guy, consumed some and sold the rest for his own benefits. To make matters worse he had apparently been hassling 'Paquito's' girl. David didn't even try to apologize: as a matter of fact he grew angry too.

* * *

oOo

* * *

'What the fuck's your problem, Paquito?'

'You stole my Indo, Cabron.'

'So what if I did, what would you do about, shorty?', David pushed the guy. 'Just look at you, little Spic shit, you want trouble huh?'

Deanne sensed it was going to get nasty from now on. 'David, shut up', she said, in vain.

'Me vale madre, hijo de puta, you give me back my shit...', Paquito threatened.

David turned to walk away, 'whatever.'

'Tu maricon de playa, I ain't done yet.' David shoved the guy aside, who went after him. '¿Que carajo quieres?'

Then, in an act of bravery, or rather stupidity, David tried the few Spanish phrases he learned.

'Chinga tu madre, me cago en la madre que tu pário.'

Paquito face twisted with hatred and he struck David just below his right cheek.

David, who was at least one foot taller, staggered backwards but didn't go down. Instead he attacked him. He planted his fist on Paquito's left temple, but due to the effects of the drugs he had been taking, it lacked power. The Latino stormed forwards and rammed him against a wall, knocking the breath out of David. He jumped backwards and with full force rammed his foot into his stomach. David cried out in pain, fell to one knee, clutching his stomach. Paquito hit him several times on his head with his fists.

* * *

oOo

* * *

Deanne, who had been standing nearby, was frozen with fear at first, but soon anger took over and she stormed over to help David out. She jumped on the back of Paquito, which had him temporarily unbalanced. But he regained his composure and shook off Deanne and planted an elbow in her face.

Deanne fell down to the floor, blood pouring out of her nose. David saw it and with not foreseen force he got up on his feet again and hit the Latino with all his strength. He stumbled to the floor and David kicked him in his ribs when he was on his hands and feet. Paquito rolled over, David stood there momentarily uncertain what to do next. He decided to turn his attention to Deanne.

'Deanne', he touched her. She looked up to see his battered face. 'My god, Dave...' she said shocked. 'I'm owkay', he lisped, one of his front teeth was knocked out in the fight. 'Jesus, let's get out, now.'

He was unaware Paquito was on his feet again when suddenly he was kicked in his back, it send him head first into the wall. 'Who's the Cabron now, ese?', he shouted. With the back of his hand he wiped away the blood on his face. His eyes full of hatred, in his hand he held a switch-blade. '¡Jodete y aprieta el culo!', he hissed.

'God, no!', Deanne shouted when she saw him thrusting the knife into David's chest, once, twice. Deanne screamed.

* * *

oOo

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Translation:**beware:**strong language!

_Cabron/- Son of a Bitch (particularly in Mexico)_

_Me vale madre: I don't give a fuck_

_Hijo de puta: do we really need to translate? See cabron_

_Tu maricon de playa/- You fucking faggot (even stronger)_

_Que carajo quieres: What the fuck do you want?_

_Chinga tu madre: Fuck your mother_

_Me cago en la madre que tu pário/- I shit on the whore who bred you._

_Ese: Homeboy, in a friendly environment it means a good friend_

_Jodete y aprieta el culo/- Go fuck yourself (Cuban slang)_

**Note:**These lines are slang, translated literally they won't make much sense sometimes, besides they mean different things throughout Latin America (most of the time bad too)


	17. Chapter 17

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A/N: Here's some more, some medical terms, but don't worry: it will be explained. Enjoy. Veel leesplezier, er komt meer: zeer binnenkort.

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oOo

* * *

Greater Southeast Community Hospital

1310 Southern Avenue SE, Washington DC, 03.07 PM

* * *

David was rushed trough the doors of the ER, the medics steered the stretcher into the first available ER Room. On his way to the hospital his condition had rapidly deteriorated.

'He has had a tension pneumothorax, to his left lung, severe chest injuries due to knife wounds. Severe hemorrhages in his chest, which is causing his lungs to collapse, he's also having hypotension', one of the medics said as they pushed the stretcher through the door.

'I want a chest film, now. Have an ECG. Move him over on three', the trauma surgeon said. 'What's his name?'

'David Mulligan, age 18, address unknown yet.'

They stripped his T-shirt away totally. 'Get him on oxygen, we already have lung failure. I don't want to risk it.' He checked the chest film. 'Put a tap on him, there's a large amount of blood in his pleura, he's risking bilateral hemothorax.' He closely examined the X-ray. 'But where does all this blood come from...', he wondered out loud. One of the other surgeons tapped on the picture. 'There, at his pericardium, there's blood. Looks like a pericardial effusion...Wait, there, there's the blood coming from', the surgeon pointed at the aorta. 'He has an aortic dissection, the blade has made a cut in his aorta.'

* * *

oOo

* * *

Deanne was in state of shock, seeing how David was rushed away with the ambulance. Once Paquito had lashed out to David she panicked, the amount of blood was awful. Even through her haze she was all but aware David was wounded severely, possibly fatal. She didn't know what to do, calling 911 wasn't her first reaction, others called the emergency line.

Within minutes medics swamped the place, assessing the situation rapidly they decided to 'scoop and run': every second he spend outside the ER was critical. Paquito had fled the crime-scene, the moment he stepped away from David. He had tossed away the knife and made a run for it. When DCPD officers searched the premises they came out empty-handed.

Basically they didn't try very hard to get Paquito, to them it was just the umpteenth time someone got stabbed, shot or whatever in a drugs-joint. To them Deanne was just one another drug addict.

Finally, two officers reluctantly took her to the hospital, after they took her statement. She tried to be as clear as she could even though she was still high of the drugs she had taken.

* * *

oOo

* * *

They dropped her off, but didn't leave. 'Good luck with your boyfriend, he's gonna need it.'

'He isn't my boyfriend', Deanne commented wearily.

'Yeah, whatever. You got a phone? Call someone who can pick you up. This ain't no place to hang around, girl.'

'I have to know what has happened with David', she said desperately trying to get into the ER. One of the officers blocked her way. 'They're taking care of him. You stay here.'

'I've got to...', she tried once more. The cop pushed her back.

'You gotta sit down and shut the fuck up. Or call someone, fast.'

Deanne sat down again, she took her cell-phone out. The cop noticed the expensive phone and frowned when he looked at the other cop. Then he looked at Deanne again.

'You definitely are not from here', he stated. Deanne shook her head.

'Then what the hell were you doing there? You look more like Northwest or Arlington.'

'Arlington', she said.

'Shit, you got a good taste in taking a city-trip', the officer commented as he slowly shook his head.

With trembling fingers Deanne dialed the number. She put the telephone to her ear.

'Mom?...', she said and her voice broke.

* * *

oOo

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**A/N: **Tensions Pneumothorax: collapsed lung.  
Hypotension: Extremely low bloodpressure.  
ECG: Electrocardiogram, measures heart activity.  
Pleura: The lining around the lung, the membrane, a 'sac' if you will. When either air or blood gets there it will push on the lung, as it has nowhere to go, and causes it to collapse: Tension Pneumothorax.  
Bilateral Hemothorax: Blood on both sides of the Pleura.  
Pericardium: The sac that envelops the heart.  
Pericardial Effusion: Blood or fluid leaking into the Pericardium.  
Aortic Dissection: A tear in the aorta. That's bad, to put it euphemistic.  
Aorta: Do we have to explain? The most important artery to your heart. Literally your 'life line'.  
"To scoop and run": That's ER and EMT speak for someone so gravely wounded that treatment 'on the street' is no option. The patient is as quickly as possible rushed away from the emergencey scene to receive all necessary treatments in hospital. Usually because out on the street the chances of survival are slim.


	18. Chapter 18

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A/N: Been a while, but here's some more. Lemme know what'dya think...

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oOo

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Leland Henderson Residence

1900 N Quebec Street, Arlington VA, 03.40 PM

* * *

Kyra was the one who answered the phone when it rang. Somehow she felt this wasn't an ordinary call: something about it made her feel unnerved, the moment she heard it ring.

'Kyra...'

'Mom?...', she heard her daughters voice break and a lot of background noise.

'Sweetheart! What is it...where are you, are you okay?...', Kyra rattled her questions through the receiver anxious, panic beginning to settle.

'Oh, it's terrible mom...David he's...', she started crying. Tears sprang in Kyra's eyes too.

'Oh my god, Deanne...where are you?...'

'It's David mom, they stabbed him...'

At that moment Robert was next to her, he had heard the anxious pitch in his wife's voice and almost ran into the living room. He took over the phone.

'Deanne, it's dad, you got to tell us where you are...'

'Southeast Community Hospital...oh it's terrible...'

'Stay there, we're on our way. You hear that sweetie? We will be there anytime soon, just relax a little.'

'Please, dad. Hurry...'

* * *

The Bullpen, J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building

935 Pennsylvania Ave NW, Washington DC, 03.50 PM

* * *

Myles absently picked up the phone while paging through his 302 report. 'Leland...'

He sat up straight when he heard who was on the line. 'Kyra, calm down...what happened?'

The mentioning of Kyra alerted Jack. He waved for Sue's attention. She looked at him. He pointed at Myles. "PHONE CALL HIM, K-Y-R-A. HIM WORRY"

Sue looked at Myles and tried to read what he was saying, but she couldn't get a good view of his lips. She turned back to Jack. "WHAT HAPPEN? SOMETHING BAD?", she signed looking very worried. Jack shrugged a little, but had the same concerned look. "_I don't know, something about a hospital, wait..._', he signed. "D-E-A-N-N-E, HER HOSPITAL NOW"

Sue gasped. 'Oh my god...'

Myles slammed the phone down, and shot up. He looked haunted.

'I, eh...I've got to go...', he said. For a second he stood there motionless.

'We're coming too, Myles', Sue said.

'What?', he said absently but he regained his composure quickly. 'You don't have to...'

'Myles', Sue said as she got into her coat and summoned Jack to hurry up, 'remember what I said earlier...we're doing this together. Now let's go.'

She put Levi on his leash and together they quickly walked out.

Bobby, Demitrius, Tara and Lucy were left behind, stunned.

'Holy drooly, what was that about?', Bobby said staring at the door where they had left.

* * *

oOo

* * *

'What hospital is she?', Jack asked. 'Southeast Community', Myles said.

Jack tapped Sue's arm. 'I'll put Levi in the car, you drive.'

Sue gave him Levi's leash and took the car keys. 'And this time I don't mind you stepping on it', Jack said as she turned the ignition key. Sue smiled and drove off. The engine roared as she accelerated out of the garage. Once on the streets of DC Jack turned on the flashlights and siren.

Sue was a formidable driver and with ease she maneuvered through the traffic at high speeds. Jack secretly admiring his wife's 'heavy right foot'.

She sped through 9th street and merged into the heavy traffic on Interstate 295/395 South. Cars moved aside as they approached with lights and siren. Even on the busy South Capitol Street bridge she kept going at high speed, once across the bridge she took exit 2 to Portland Street/Boiling AFB, went left to Atlantic Street SE, continued through Barnaby Street SE and right on Wheeler Road SE.

* * *

oOo

* * *

Finally she pulled up in front of the Southeast Community Hospital. Jack checked his watch, she bridged the seven mile distance under eight minutes. He whistled softly, Sue was legendary for her fast driving, but she had excelled once again. 'You guys go ahead, I'll be with you in a while, I have to park', she said.

'You want me to take Levi?', Jack asked.

'You don't have to, just get to Deanne, I'll take him with me', Sue responded.

"S-U-E, THANK YOU", Myles signed. "NO PROBLEM" She smiled and he got out.

Jack smiled too. Sue leaned over and kissed her husband. "_I'll be there shortly._"

He tapped his watch. "_Under eight minutes, not bad. You're improving._" Sue rolled her eyes, but was laughing. He always commented on her 'need for speed' as he called it. It had become a ritual, but one she enjoyed.

"_Just go, wiseguy _", she signed teasingly and she swatted his arm. Jack grinned and got out, after Myles who had already disappeared into the Hospital.


	19. Chapter 19

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oOo

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Inside, Myles was already on his way to Deanne. He rushed through the door of the room where she sat. One of the officers who were still there shot up. 'What the...' Myles didn't look at him but went straight to Deanne his face expressing worry, care and anxiety. The same set of emotions that had rushed through his body just the other day. Deanne came towards him, tears streaming down her face and he hugged her tightly.

They stood like that for a short while, he gently swayed her to comfort her, and slowly her sobs ebbed away.

'My god, you had me scared to death, are you okay, my dear?', his baritone voice was loaded with emotions.

One of the officers cleared his throat to get the attention. 'Sir...'

He looked at them, but didn't let her go. 'I'm her Godfather.' The officer nodded. 'Still, it wouldn't be a bad idea next time not to storm in like that.'

Myles squinted his eyes a little. 'Hopefully there won't be a next time. But should something similar occur again I won't even consider not to go 'storming in' as you so eloquently put it.'

The officer huffed. Myles turned his attention to Deanne again. Softly stroking her hair. 'Kyra and Robert are on their way.' Deanne nodded. 'What has happened...'

'It...it was awful. All this blood...I...', she said with a trembling voice. He mustered her. She looked like she had been to hell and back, very clearly shocked, perhaps traumatized. But at the same time there was something not right. He could tell something was off, and it made his stomach knot.

* * *

oOo

* * *

The door swung open and Jack and Sue entered with Levi. 'Hey, what's this dog doin' here?', one of the officers said.

'He's mine', Sue said and she walked over to Deanne and hugged her too. 'Aunt Sue, Uncle Jack', she said and smiled through her tears. 'You came...'

'Yes, we heard you were here and we got very worried', Sue said as she saw what Deanne had said, smiling a comforting smile. Jack made sure he was in her line of vision when he replied, after a small waving motion to alert Sue he was going to speak.

'Myles was in a hurry to get here and Sue's the only one capable to get us through DC in record-speed, without crashing', he winked at her. Sue rolled her eyes. 'Don't mind him. How are you? What happened?'

'Ma'am, this dog...' The officer who addressed her got no response. 'Ma'am!'

Deanne motioned her that someone said something to her. She turned round.

'I'm sorry, were you speaking to me?'

'Yeah.'

'Then I missed what you said.'

'How could you miss that, I nearly yelled', he said his face annoyed.

'I'm Deaf, so, unless I can see you, I won't understand what you're saying', Sue said, still sounding friendly. His brows knitted. 'How do you...?'

'I read lips', she said before he could ask her the question that had been asked countless times.

'Right, well this dog gotta move', the officer said raising his voice.

'And yelling won't help', she quipped. 'Besides, Levi's staying. He's my hearing-dog.' She turned back to Deanne. 'You have to lie down, dear, and get some rest', she said.

Deanne sat down again. Myles, who had grown furious with the officers' behavior couldn't restrain himself anymore when the man huffed once more.

'Out! Now! It's bad enough we have to be here, and to have someone with such a bad demeanor here is something I cannot tolerate. Out, both of you...'

'I'd better come down of that high attitude if I were you, _mister_, before we book you for insulting.'

'And you better clear off before _we_ are going to speak to your Lieutenant about your behavior', Jack cut through. And he showed his badge. 'You don't want to piss us off, believe me. And you already have. You've offended Myles for being so insensitive, lacked respect to Deanne, and moreover you've pissed _me_ off for insulting my wife like that. I might consider not to press any charges unless you make a very clear apology to Deanne, Myles and Sue. You got that?'

The man nodded, visibly uneasy. 'I'm sorry for that. And to you too Ma'am.'

Sue smiled. 'Apologies accepted, for once, just stop calling me Ma'am. It's demeaning.'

'Now clear off', Jack said and he held the door open for them. They quickly left.

'Unbelievable...', Myles said.

* * *

oOo

* * *

It didn't take long before Kyra, Mitchell and Robert arrived. Together with David's parents. Kyra rushed towards her daughter holding her close and caressing her as a treasure. Robert couldn't help notice how David's parents looked at the scene with a pained look. He went over to them and he hugged Mary, David's mother. He drew an arm around Deke. 'We're going to go through this together.' Myles got up and gave David's parents his sympathy. 'I'll go and see if anyone can tell us more about David's condition', he offered. They nodded their thanks.

'You want me to join you?', Jack offered.

'No, you can stay here if you want, I...eh...I just', he began. _I just need to put things straight, the who, what, where and why._ 'I'll be right back.


	20. Chapter 20

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A/N: Some more, sorry for the sometimes long 'intervals' in between posts. Busy etc. Have to keep both this story running as well as Cut to the Chase and started a new fic 'An Undwieldy Matter'. Not STFBE but Due South, it's in the Due South forum. Anyway: thanks for reading this story (and perhaps the other stories).

TY for those who've reviewed: you really make my daywith that.

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oOo

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Once outside he walked towards the desk of the ER. 'Excuse me, is there anyone I can speak to about the condition of David Mulligan?' The nurse looked up. 'Who's asking?'

'Myles Leland', he left out the 'third' part, he didn't want to sound aloof.

'Are you a relative?'

'No, just an acquaintance.'

'Then I'm sorry, we can't give details.'

'Could you perhaps tell me someone who can?', he pressed on.

'Look, this is private information. You want me to spell it out for you? Unless you're a relative you're not allowed to know details. Period.'

He hated to stand on his stripes, but he saw no other option. He showed her his badge. 'Myles Leland the Third, FBI. And let me rephrase that. I _need_ someone to tell me about his condition. And anything later than very soon is simply unacceptable.' The nurse bit her lip but nevertheless got up. 'Wait here.'

'Thank you', Myles said, trying to sound more friendly. He was very aware he was tense, a reaction to the worries of the moment. And because of the unnerving feeling something, besides being in the hospital, was wrong. Very wrong. _Could it be I was right when I ran down the streets? Wasn't it a product of my imagination, but had she actually been there, doing god knows what? _

* * *

oOo

* * *

After a short while a doctor came towards him, closely followed by the nurse. 'Mister Leland?'

'Yes?'

'I'm doctor Reese-Jones, I understand you're investigating the patient's...' She was interrupted by Myles. 'I believe it's a miscommunication, this is not FBI business', he said. 'Not yet anyway.'

Doctor Reese-Jones looked a little confused. 'I was told the FBI wanted to get an update on his situation...'

'I offer my apologies for that, but it was the only way I could get the information. I'm just an acquaintance, not next-of-kin. That's why the badge got involved.'

The doctor nodded understanding. 'I see, is his family around?'

'Yes, they're in family room 20.'

Doctor Reese-Jones gestured with her hand to proceed to the family room. 'Shall we?'

* * *

oOo

* * *

Just before they reached the door, Myles turned to look at her. 'It may sound strange, but can you get a blood-sample from Deanne Henderson and have it checked for anything unusual, like narcotics?' 

The doctor knitted her brows a little. 'Is she in ICU too?'

'No, she's in the room.'

'Then why would we want to check her blood for anything?'

'Because something about her demeanor tells me she's high on something, she was at the same place as David Mulligan apparently.'

'Just hypothetically speaking, if we do run a blood-test, who need to know?'

'I would, and maybe her parents if my hunch is right as I fear it will be.'

'I'll see what I can do, but no promises.' Myles smiled a little. 'Thank you doctor.' She gave him a judging look just before she opened the door and stepped in.

* * *

oOo

* * *

The news she had wasn't hopeful, if the damaged aorta could be operated his chances of survival would be significantly bigger than they were now. But operating was highly risky, he could die in the OR. But they had no choice. Without surgery he wouldn't make it through the next hour. Even if they succeeded in 'repairing' the damage to his aorta and his pericardium it turned out one of his lungs had been pierced by the knife too.

With every breath, air flowed into his pleura. His oxygen levels had dropped severely, he had severe hypotension. To top it off, he had slipped into a coma, his damaged heart and lungs and the staggering amount of blood he lost, it all contributed to the failure to feed sufficient amounts of blood and oxygen to his brains.

After the devastating reality dawned all present in the room, David's mother burst out in tears, while her husband tried to remain hopeful. Deanne almost collapsed after she realized David's chances were minimal.

Jack, Myles and Sue sat silently as Kyra and Robert firmly held on to their daughter and son. Emotions mingled with relief they still were together. Doctor Reese-Jones excused herself, but just before she left she asked Deanne if she could come with her, saying a wound needed extra treatment. Deanne went with her, together with Myles and Kyra and Sue.

Doctor Reese-Jones led her to a private room where a male nurse cleaned a cut on her jaw. Somewhat sneaky Reese-Jones slipped the cotton with blood in a test-tube and put in her pocket. She looked at Myles for a second as she did. He nodded his thanks with a barely visible nod. Kyra missed the interaction but Sue's trained eyes didn't. She made a mental note to ask him later, when things were more calm.


	21. Chapter 21

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A/N: Some more, note: the Italic in between quotes is signed, except for the first paragraph where it is not.

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oOo

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In the family room, Jack's cell-phone rang. He apologized and stepped outside. 'Crash, what you got?'

'_We had word from SDU from Holland._'

'That's quick.'

'_Yeah. How's everything wherever you are?_' It dawned Jack they had failed to give their team-members a notification of their whereabouts. 'Ah, sorry mate. Totally forgot. We're at Southeast Community. Deanne, Myles' godchild, was brought in together with a severely wounded friend.'

'_What happened?_'

'That's what we're trying to find out too.'

'_Hate to say this, but we need you back here, mate._'

'I'll be on my way.'

'_Cheerio, and give them my sympathy, Sparky. Hey, hot miss Diana Grove is coming too...'_

Jack laughed, but made sure it wasn't too loud. 'Crash, I already got the hottest one. And she's wearing my ring. Too bad for Diana.'

'_Too right, more chance for me._'

* * *

oOo

* * *

Jack went in to say he had to leave. Then he went to see his wife. He found her just as she came out of the room were Deanne was treated. "_Hey, sweetheart_", he signed and gave her a kiss. "YOU OKAY?" She nodded. "_Remember me to ask Myles why the doctor took a blood-sample._"

"WHY?"

"_She did it somewhat sneaky and Myles gave her his approval, besides I noticed Deanne looked like she was high..._"

He frowned. "M-Y-L-E-S, HIM THINK SAME?" Sue nodded

"_I have to go back, Bobby called._"

"_You want me to drive?_"

"_Why not, at least I'll be back a lot faster._" She swatted his arm, but grinned broadly. 'I'll tell Kyra we have to leave.' She gave him Levi's leash went back in and was back shortly after, alone. 'Let's go.'

"M-Y-L-E-S, HIM STAY HOSPITAL?" She nodded and took Levi's leash from him.

* * *

The Bullpen J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building

935 Pennsylvania Ave NW, 06.14 PM

* * *

Bobby, Demitrius, Tara, Garrett and Diana Grove were already in the bullpen, when Sue and Jack joined them. 'Okay, what did they ship from the Lowlands?', Jack informed as he put his coat on his chair.

'What don't they ship?', was Bobby's response. 'But apparently synthetic drugs too.'

'They recognized the stuff we seized?'

'They had the same stored, took them only five minutes to get it.'

'That's good news.'

Garrett frowned. 'Not as good as it seems. They said it was the same drugs, but they haven't found the source yet.'

'It's not a big country, right?'

Garrett shook his head. 'No, not really, but these labs are sometimes just ordinary houses in the middle of neighborhoods. Sometimes in trailer parks, abandoned warehouses, houseboats in Amsterdam Canals, bungalows in Center Parks. You name it, they've probably found it. It's the same with Hemp-plants.'

The screen showed several drugs-busts in the Netherlands. It showed labs varying from amateurs to professional factories, capable to produce thousands of XTC-tablets in a day. Bobby whistled. 'Looks like a profitable business.'

'It is. And the Dutch government is not very pleased meth is such a growing export-product.'

'Wasn't there something quirky about their drug laws?', Sue informed.

'From what I found it does sound strange', Tara said. 'In the Netherlands it's legal to possess marihuana. You can even smoke it in public, just like a cigarette. In special places called 'Coffee-shops' you can buy weed legally.'

'I wonder if you could drink coffee there too...', D. joked. Tara smiled. 'If you want, sure. The quality and distribution of the weed sold in coffee-shops is state-controlled. However, it's not allowed to grow weed at home. You're in offense if you have more than five plants.'

'You still with us Sue? I know it's a lot of info. I have it printed out too, then you can read it afterwards to get all of it.' Sue smiled. 'Until now I could follow along, but thank you Tara. Can I get the paper now to read through? That way I can understand better when you all talk again.'

"D-E-A-L"

She handed her some sheets of paper, and gave the others a summary. When Sue looked up again she continued again. "_When you're not able to follow, just interrupt please. If I was better in ASL I would have signed more. And I'm still sometimes too fast in speaking...and we have Ted, D. and Bobby to consider._" Sue nodded.

'Okay, well. At the same time this weed has to come from somewhere to be sold in these shops. So weed is grown clandestine, as long as nobody is bothered or electricity is illegally tapped to power the lamps that help grow the plants, it is condoned, they even have a word for it, I can't pronounce it correctly probably but it's spelled like this: 'Gedoogbeleid', where 'beleid' means policy and 'Gedoog', means condone.'

She fingerspelled it for Sue who squinted her eyes a little when she said it.

'It does indeed sound strange, but over the years it has showed that with weed being legalized, the problems of drug abuse became controllable', said Garrett. 'And the coffee-shops pay taxes just like any other. It has also given the police more capacity to fight hard-drugs, and the heavier crimes. The Dutch model has been adopted by Switzerland and other countries are planning to do the same.'


	22. Chapter 22

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**A/N: There has been a considerable amount of time gone by since the last installment. The story had slipped a bit off my radar...a bit akward considering I'm the author. But anyway. I've been out of the country for a few weeks, but had time to work on the stories. So, here's the next post. I hope you're still with me.**

**Note: there's a fair amount of glossing ASL in it. I've done my utmost best to get it right. Studying the grammar of ASL and Dutch Sign Language, I noticed the grammar was nearly the same. Note: nearly. Although ASL is a derivate from LSF (Langue Signe de France) and it's brother DSL, languages are never one-on-one. So: if you spot errors, please, please, let me know. **

**Other than that: enjoy and review if you like. Thanks for reading and thanks for staying with me on this one.**

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'The Synthetic Drugs Unit is specialized in tracking down the meth labs. They suspect our drugs is coming from either Limburg or Noord-Brabant. Those are two Dutch States. They have raided a lab last weekend, but even though they found some of our stuff, it wasn't the source.'

'I presume these words I don't get at all, or deformed are the Dutch provinces on the map?', Sue asked. 'Yes, that's right', said Garrett.

'There are probably several labs producing these drugs', Tara continued.

'We have had a request from the Dutch branch of Interpol to collaborate with the FBI and DEA to shut down the labs and their supply-lines to the US and elsewhere. I have agreed with their request, so any information we have is sent their way, and vice versa.' He paused.

'Furthermore they're sending an Inspector from the SDU, connected with Interpol, over to DC to help us.'

'We're getting a visitor?'

'No, we're getting an extra Agent. They're very keen on eliminating this gang. We will cooperate just like in Operation X in 2003 in Miami. It worked out very well then, maybe it will work out again.'

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It was then the phone rang, Jack reached over to get it. He listened and spoke a few words, not really audible to the others but visible for Sue. It was Myles and he was coming back, not bringing happy news. Sue felt how some grief washed over her, she had never known David but it was always hard for her to see a young life being ended.

Before Jack spoke to the others he shared a look with his wife, she read in his eyes he felt sorry too.

'That was Myles.' The others saw whatever was coming wasn't good.

'You are all aware his godchild Deanne was taken to hospital together with a friend who was stabbed?' They nodded in unison. 'This young man, David Mulligan, died because of his injuries just ten minutes ago...'

"HOW OLD HIM?", Lucy asked, her motions expressing how she felt.

Jack held his middle finger bend inwards on his thumb, other fingers extended, palm facing back and he twisted his hand forwards twice. "EIGHTEEN"

They were silent for a while

"D-E-A-N-N-E, HER HURT?"

"NO, HER OKAY, _sort of, anyway._"

'What about Myles?', Garrett asked, who had trouble following their signing.

'Myles is coming back, he said. Not in best spirits, so be gentle.'

'Why was this David stabbed anyway?', Bobby asked the question everybody wanted to see answered. Jack shrugged a little. 'From what I understood it happened in a known trouble spot in Southeast. Near 13th and Savannah. Some fight, probably over drugs, that spiraled out of control. They are looking for the suspect, but chances of finding him are minimal.'

'Hey, wait a second, Southeast...wasn't Myles sure he saw her in Southeast? 14th?'

'Yeah, but that was 14th and Kentucky Avenue, this is near Savannah Street and Alabama Avenue, that's Southeast _south_ of Anacostia...', Jack said.

'That's not the best neighborhood to be, to put it mildly', Bobby commented.

'What was she doing there then?', asked Lucy, who vaguely remembered meeting Deanne once. 'Didn't she live in Arlington?'

'Still does.'

'Hmmm...'

'My words exactly.'

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oOo

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When Myles came back everyone watched him more intently than they would have done under 'normal' circumstances. On the outside he appeared to be okay, but inside would undoubtedly be a different matter. Not many were able to penetrate this 'mask', those who could were the ones he trusted enough to 'expose' himself to. So they waited for him to say something. Usually when someone asked if he was okay his answer was affirmative. But no one knew whether that was correct or not.

He hung his coat over his chair and ran a hand through his hair. Then he looked up only to see he had everyone's attention.

'I'm okay, if that's what you want to know.'

'Really? This isn't something that is easy to handle', said Dimitrius.

'No really, I'm okay...At least for now.'

'What do you mean?', asked Tara.

'Well, Deanne is unharmed. That's a great comfort in this hard time. And I feel sympathy for David's parents and I'm truly sorry he passed away, but...', he stopped not sure how to put it in words.

'I mean, I don't want to sound cold...but...'

'You didn't know him', Sue helped. Myles nodded. 'And that's why you're not as disturbed as you think you should.' Myles was stunned: Sue pinpointed exactly what he felt. _How on earth does she do that? _He slowly nodded. 'Yes, that about sums it up.'

'Don't beat yourself on the head for it', she said.

'When you're me, the beating will be profound and sustained. Consequences of my upbringing.'

'But could you mellow the effect?'

'It's my conscience that holds the tool for the destruction, unfortunately.'

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oOo

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The others returned to work and Myles sat at his desk, rummaging through some reports. Then Jack walked over. He looked up. 'Hey, Myles, while you were at the hospital we got some information about the drugs. SDU from the Netherlands confirmed it was from their country.'

'Do they know the source?'

'Unfortunately, no. But they have found the same stuff a couple of times.'

'They're quite ingenious in hiding these meth-labs', Myles said. Jack raised an eyebrow.

'I've done some research on this case', Myles clarified.

'We also are getting help from them', said Jack.

'How?'

'They're sending someone to help us tackle the problem, shut down US based labs and destroy the shipping line from Europe. Like we did three years ago in Miami.'

'I see...We're getting an agent?'

'Yes, from the SDU, their Interpol Liaison.'

'When?'

'Soon.'

Jack paused before he continued. 'Eh, Myles, can we talk somewhere more private?'

'I...think so, yes. Why?'

'About the whole issue.'

'I told you I am doing fine', Myles tried to dismiss the subject.

Jack put a hand on his shoulder. 'Myles...' He looked at the New Englander intently. Myles finally nodded with a small movement.

'Okay...'

'I'll get Sue.'

'That would be good...'

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The three of them, four with Levi included, sat down in a private room.

"YOU OKAY? HONEST YOU-ME WANT", Sue signed.

"ME FINE NOW", he responded. "FUTURE WORRY ME"

"WHY?"

"D-E-A-N-N-E, HER USE DRUGS"

"_That's why you had the doctor taking blood in the hospital?_", Sue asked. Myles' face grew surprised. "_She did it somewhat sneakily and that caught my attention. Even more when she looked at you afterwards_", Sue explained. Myles pursed his lips and exchanged a look with Jack. "GOOD HER-ME FORGET FINISH" Jack's lips curled up in a knowing smile.

He took a sip of his tea.

"_Did you tell her parents about it?_", Jack asked after a while. Myles shook his head.

"_You didn't?_" Again he shook his head.

"_That's tricky Myles..._"

"_You want her blood to be tested for drugs?_", asked Sue. "YES, ME THINK HER USE DRUGS"

He looked at them both, he could see in their eyes they had noticed something wrong too back in the hospital. "YOU THINK SAME?"

"MAYBE", Jack replied. "_She did look like she was still stoned of something_."

"_Exactly_", responded Myles. "_And now with this new drugs that is flooding the streets, this has made me very nervous._"

Sue bit her lip, thinking. Then she looked at Myles again. "_What exactly are you going to do, when you get the results?_"

"_Put an end to all of this._"

"M-Y-L-E-S, _you're not her father or mother. They have to deal with whatever comes next first._"

"ME KNOW", he signed with a pained expression. "HELP THEM ME WANT"

Sue nodded, she felt he was inwardly most likely burning with his desire to do something. "WE UNDERSTAND", she gestured at Jack and herself, in a turned 'P' handshape, index and middle finger pointing up while she waved them back and forth. "WE WANT SAME, _it's just..._", she paused, searching for the right words. "_You might risk losing grip when you push it too hard._"

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Myles looked at Sue. He knew she had a point, but it was going to be difficult to restrain himself not to jump on top of things.

"_I feel that I have to do something. Just watch things go bad is simply impossible._" Sue placed a hand on his arm. 'We're not going to stand aside either, Myles', she said, the first sentence of their conversation that was spoken and not signed.

He sighed, rubbed a hand over his face. His eyes scanned the ceiling, momentarily before he looked at them again. "ZERO CHILDREN ME HAVE, _but Deanne is what comes close to what I think it may be like. I feel responsible._"

"_That's good, but maybe it is better for Kyra and Robert to sort out things themselves. Give them time, and when things do get worse: we act. Okay?_", Jack offered, his eyebrows up, head slightly tilted. Myles weighed his words.

_Could he sit it out? _The answer was short_: No. It wouldn't last a whole day before the fire that was burning inside would erupt and he had to do something. Anything would be better than to be idle._

_For idleness was something his upbringing had rooted out thoroughly. _Inwardly he laughed a bitter laugh. _Oh, yes. They always made him do something. His mother, so preoccupied with their presentation would make sure the Leland-brand didn't have any scuffs. Picture-perfect mother, where rationality was considered the ideal standard and emotion was regarded as something vulgar._

_Where something like this was simply unacceptable. It can happen with the best of families. Well, the Lelands were to be excluded, of course. If mother -and father would undoubtedly consent- were to find out, Kyra would be expelled. And he would bear the brunt of the storm of accusations why he hadn't done something about it._

'_Do something, Myles, this matter has been ignominious. What wouldn't they think of us when we wouldn't act? Make it go away. And do it discrete.'_

_Oh, he would do something. _Myles thought cynically. _That part of the Leland bloodline was still in him, one of the few things he cherished. But shutting people out wasn't him..._

'Myles?', Jack's voice interrupted his thoughts and he remembered he hadn't answered his suggestion.

His conscience cursed him for what he would do, lying to his friends. But his _heart_ knew it was the right thing to do. _Weren't it the ancient Greeks who thought the center of human intelligence, the place where decisions were made and the conscience roamed, was the Heart?_

He would follow his heart.

Myles smiled and finally nodded. "D-E-A-L"


	23. Chapter 23

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A/N: Here is the next post accompanied by a fair warning: this post and the next one(s) will be rather 'visually strong' regarding language, death and violence.

**Enjoy is somewhat out of place above chapters like these, but nevertheless... Thanks for reading and reviewing.**

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Back in the Bullpen Myles was hardly seated behind his desk when the phone rang.

'Leland...'

'_Hey, you forgot the 'the third' part_', a familiar voice said. '_It's Rashawn Michaels, DC Metro, we met before..._'

Myles' lips curled into what could be translated as a smile. 'Yes, I remember, rather vividly.' He heard Michaels laugh. '_Word man, the pleasure was all mine._'

'Well, detective, what can I do for you?'

'_From what I've heard down here, the queen came by, right?_'

'I wouldn't know, I wasn't here all the time', Myles stated.

'_Gone fishin'?_'

'Hardly, unless observing the aquariums in the Southeast Community counts.'

'_Hmm, no. Mind if I ask what you were doing?_'

'If I would mind, would you care?', Myles returned, feeling a little banter couldn't hurt.

'_Shit man, you got me_', Rashawn responded laughing.

'But because it is related to what we're dealing with I will enlighten it to you. I was in the hospital because someone I know was there. A stabbing in a house on 13th, Savannah and Alabama Ave.'

'_The Mulligan-case..._'

'You know him?'

'_The kid? No, but because it's my turf I get the case. From what it seems it were some uptown kids in the wrong hood._'

'One of these uptown kids, as you put it eloquently, is my godchild.'

'_Oh, I'm sorry for your loss..._', Rashawn began. 'No, not the deceased, the girl who was with him.'

'_Right...Anyway, it's good you mention it yourself, saves me time because I wasn't calling because of that. I called you because we've got a situation here..._'

'What?'

'_Some guy has gone berserk, and I mean really freakin' out. Another one of those Razor-heads. You must see this, man. Gives you a first hand view of what kind of shit we're tussling with. It's still very fresh, trying to negotiate, but these things tend to go ruckus pretty fast._'

'Where?', was the only thing Myles asked.

Rashawn told him.

As soon as he had scribbled down the address he got up. 'Jack, Bobby...' They looked up.

'It was Michaels, the detective we met earlier. They're having a situation with one of those out-of-control users of this drug. He wants us to come down and watch.'

'Your car or mine?', Bobby asked as he got up.

'I don't know...', Jack said as he got his coat, 'wasn't your nickname Crash?'

'Yeah, yeah, aren't we funny, eh? Just go, all right?'

* * *

H Street SE, just off 15th , 07.35 PM

* * *

When they arrived, there were at least ten police cruisers on the scene. Officers were taking cover behind their vehicles and a SWAT-van stood nearby. They were met by Rashawn, who led them to a spot near the van from where they had a clear view on the situation.

Across the road in the blinding light of multiple spotlights was a run-down house, an old refrigerator stood in the front yard, rusting away together with the ragged remainder of what used to be a fence. Garbage everywhere. The front door of the one-storey building stood wide open, the glass in one of the windows of the living room was smashed and the stained curtains were hanging out, softly swaying in the wind.

A burned out wreck of what used to be a car stood next to a fire-plug, as a morbid act of the blackest of humor. Or as a sign, a reminder of the degradation.

Through the noise of the Bell 206L3 LongRanger helicopter circling above their heads they could hear things being smashed and people screaming. The blinding 7.5 million Candela Peak Beam searchlight of the helicopter above lit up the scene in an eerie cold, almost clinical light.

'What's the situation?', Myles asked.

'A thirty-something year old, Afro-American male, has forcefully made his way into the house of his ex-girlfriend and her one and two-year old kids. Threatens to kill them if we don't give him money and a getaway.'

'Why?'

'Because he needs a fix, or he just fuckin' freaked out because of a hit', Rashawn said. 'Watch it, he's coming out!'

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A man appeared in the doorway holding a terrified young woman in front of him, his arm around her neck as he held a gun near her head. The woman was bleeding from a wound just above her left eyebrow and her lips were swollen. Her clothes were partly stripped. The man was screaming incoherently to the officers.

His movements were abrupt, incoherent and menacing. The gun was going back and forth, one time pointing at the police and then at the woman again.

'Motherfuck...', they heard Rashawn mumble. 'They can't take him out, they'll hit her too.'

'No negotiations?'

'Fuck negotiations. We passed that station already, got the officer in charge nearly killed when he started shooting.'

The man dragged the screaming woman back inside again. They waited. Nearby a SWAT team was closing in on the house, another one was approaching from another side. The first man had a bullet-proof armored shield in front of him as the others kept their Heckler & Koch MP5's aimed at the building. Then suddenly in front of a window the man appeared again, alone, aiming his gun outside.

One of the SWAT members' weapon flashed and the windowsill shattered as the bullets ripped through. The characteristic staccato rattling sound of the MP5 salvo echoed through the street.

The man had disappeared.

The teams were about to enter as the first team member signaled to pull back.

Shots were fired from inside. The radio crackled with the voices of the SWAT teams as they retreated. 'He's got a kid', Rashawn said. 'They missed, and now the son-of-a-bitch's got a kid.'

They heard hysterical screams coming from the house. Officers nearby gripped their guns even tighter, their jaws clenched with determination. One of the teams, which had retreated earlier, moved forward a little to get a better assessment of the situation inside.

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Then the man appeared again, this time clenching a young child in his arm. He sat down on the threshold of the door and put the child on his lap as a human shield. The gun near the child's head. The child was crying out of control and the crazed man shook it together violently to make it shut up.

His eyes were wide open, around the corners of his mouth was saliva. His body was trembling uncontrollable, the fingers holding the gun were flexing too, and suddenly the gun went off. Everybody ducked when they heard the shot.

The child had stopped crying.


	24. Chapter 24

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**A/N: Short one, yes, but it adds to the drama. This is the second part of the scene, there will be more. Feel free to comment. And once again: thanks for reading.**

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The next events went by in a blur of violence. As the man tried to crawl back into the house, the mother of the child launched herself at him with a kitchen knife. She stabbed the man in his shoulder, but he shook her off and aimed the gun at her. In the process of turning round he dropped the lifeless child. 

The instant he was unprotected the SWAT team opened fire.

A sudden force smashed the man backwards against the woodwork of the door, another round caught him in his lower stomach, toppling him over. He fell to the ground halfway out of the house. But still he clenched the gun in his hand, the other hand pressed against him stomach. He howled out in pain and twisted and turned on the ground while little streams of blood trickled from between his fingers.

His legs kicked somewhat helplessly as he tried to push himself inside again. He raised his other arm with the gun towards the police again.

Myles and the others heard the SWAT member near him beckoning the man to lay down the gun, once, twice, as they took aim again and the man continued to crawl inside on his back. His hand swung towards the SWAT team.

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It was the last thing he did. Three shots echoed through the street in rapid succession. His body rocked as the bullets penetrated his chest. One violent convulsion went through him and he laid still.

Just two feet away lay the child he had held earlier, lifeless too. A thin stream of red was visible somewhere near it's little body.

The SWAT teams approached with caution, their weapons still aimed at the man. But he never moved again. They kicked the gun away.

Then, paramedics rushed towards the child and further inside. Ambulances pulled up the curb.

The men stared at the scene, silent, shocked.

'Jesus', said Bobby.

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oOo

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Rashawn was the first to say anything after a while. His face was sad as he looked at the others. 'I'm here, seen it a couple of times like this, but I can't get this through my mind. It's too surreal and yet it happened. In The District, in my goddamn backyard.'

They stood there for a while. Watching how the child was scooped up and transported towards the ambulance which drove off the second the doors shut. The mother had been hysterical about her child as it lay there with paramedics frantically at work to save this young, innocent life.

She too, was being treated for her injuries but wasn't paying attention at all to what the medics told her. She was focused on her child, lifeless, perhaps dead. And she had lost it. As the child was rushed away on the stretcher she screamed his name. 'Dwayne!'. Her voice with a high pitch due to the terror she experienced and the diminishing hope with every second the boy remained motionless.

The sirens of the ambulance screamed their macabre tones as it drove off.

'Dwayne!...'


	25. Chapter 25

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A/N: It's time for some more. There is some language in this post, but nothing too shocking (at least not to my European POV anyway). Enjoy.

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It took considerably longer to remove the dead man from the street. Though covered with a white cloth, that got stained fairly quickly, the presence of death was ineluctable.

'What's the unsub's name?', Jack asked as he lifted the cloth a little to look at the man's face.

'Unsub?', Rashawn repeated.

'Unidentified Subject, it's a Bureau habit to use acronyms, although it can sometimes be idiosyncratic', Myles explained. 'Right, I don't know his name, I even don't know the full names of the victims', said Rashawn. 'Southeast is a big hood.'

Myles looked at one of the officers standing by. 'Anyone know the full name of the victims? Radio dispatch...'

'Latifah Browne', said one of the officers after contacting the dispatcher.

'And the unsub?'

'Trying to find out, the 911 report has only one name: Darryll, no last name. Her ex-friend. Haven't had the chance to find out more, yet.'

'Maybe the neighbors know', said Rashawn, 'keep me informed when you got anything.'

He looked at Jack, Bobby and Myles. 'Don't suppose I can persuade you to help us out?'

'Sorry, as far as the Bureau is concerned this is a hands-off', said Jack. 'We want the big fish.'

Rashawn shrugged, a little defeated. 'Sure...Can't blame a man for trying.' He stepped over the body, towards the house. 'Let's take a look inside.'

Bobby raised his eyebrows a little when he saw the indifference Rashawn displayed as he stepped over the dead man. He hadn't even looked down.

'Not really his day', he commented. The others didn't smile.

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oOo

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Inside, it was a mess. The already worn-out furniture was smashed, tables had toppled over. A mirror in the bathroom was smashed, kitchen cabinets were opened and the content was spilled over the floor. Everything marked the scars of a madman at work, searching frantically for a fix, fighting everything and anyone that stood in his way.

'It's a war zone', Bobby commented as he looked around.

'Outside or inside?', was Rashawn's bitter comment.

They looked round, absorbing the disconsolateness. It seemed all so inevitable, so unstoppable. The poverty, the crimes, the violence.

It was as if Rashawn knew what they were thinking when he said: 'It makes you wonder, will it ever get better?' He shoved his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker. 'I hope it will, and we can make a difference. If you don't have hope, you'll lose your mind.' He was commenting to no one in particular.

'Rough week?'

'Let's just say I've seen the worst the District can throw at ya, and I don't mean the politics.'

He shook his head and headed back towards the front door. They followed him out.

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oOo

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Outside, the body of Darryll was being removed. SWAT was gone, and behind the yellow lines stood the crowd of spectators. They were being questioned by uniformed officers and plain-clothes detectives, but as usual, nobody was very willing to help the investigation. To Rashawn and his men, it was nothing new.

He turned round.

'If there's anything called common sense left, this is something that ought to teach something. A kid's going to die, for what? A fucked-up dopehead desperate for a fix.' He pointed at the people standing behind the yellow tape. 'Look at them, just look at them', he nearly spat out the words, suddenly furious. 'To them, this whole thing doesn't mean shit. Like it is normal for a two year old kid to get shot. It ain't _normal_ to get fucking shot. Never.'

'You're upset', commented Myles.

'Thank god I am.

'I'm upset too. That means we, unlike them, are still capable to care. We're still capable to recognize the absurdity of this. It's weary, but it's there', said Myles. The detective nodded.

'You got kids?'

Myles shook his head. 'Well, I have two. I grew up in Southeast. But when I got the chance, I moved as fast as I could. This isn't a place for kids to grow up. For no one, in fact. This is something that is a disgrace. If you stepped three hundred yards down this road onto Pennsylvania, you can see the Capitol. Symbol of the greatest nation on earth, the richest, the strongest. It's Washington, sure. Quintessential DC, the Washington of _Politics_.'

He gestured at the house they had just left and the blood-stained concrete in front of the door.

'This rat-hole is Washington the _City_. Where it is normal for a two year old to get shot. Where your dad sniffs his brains out, and your mother's away. And vice versa. Where we have a curfew for kids under seventeen after ten PM. Where we have the highest murder rate, crime rate. Where anyone that only has the most _minute chance_ of getting away, gets out overnight.' He paused and lit up a cigarette.

'Nobody gives a damn about the city. Only a couple of miles down the road you see a different town. Postcard Washington DC.' He laughed a bitter laugh. 'Be sure to swerve round the potholes in the road when you're heading towards that.'


	26. Chapter 26

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A/N: It's been a while, but work and education take precedence over writing and adding this. Enjoy, reviews welcome.

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DCPD Police Substation 1st district  
500 E Street SE, Washington DC, Thursday 08.30 AM

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'Good morning', Myles said as he walked over to Rashawn's desk amidst the hectic environment of the police station. 'It better be.' The black detective looked up. 'Hey, Myles, didn't know it was you.'

'Why, Michaels I'm disappointed: you didn't recognize the more upper-circle timbre, the Bostonian accent amidst the vulgar pandemonium.' Rashawn started to grin broadly. 'Well, now you mention it...I thought for a second there was something funny about it.' Myles smiled and gestured questioningly at an empty chair. 'Hey, it ain't no design chair, but at least you can sit down in it', Rashawn said.

'Where are the others?', he asked.

'At the Bureau. But I thought I'd walk by to see if I can do something.'

'Thought it was a non-Bureau thing?'

'It is, but this has more personal notes than I wish it would have had.'

Rashawn nodded. 'Appreciate it, though.'

'I know.'

The telephone on his desk rang. He picked it up.

'Yeah? Who? No, he's off that case, give it to Berkman.' He listened.

'You deaf or somethin'? It ain't my problem he messed up, give it to Berkman, Berkman! that's B-E-R-K-M-A-N, you got that? Sounds to me you're dumb enough to get shit...' He slammed the phone down. 'Hey, man. You want coffee or something?'

'You're sure it is safe?'

'Not here, the rot-gut they're pouring here is like arsenic. No, I mean proper, grade-A tarmac.'

He got up and got his coat. Myles got up too.

* * *

oOo

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In a little shop, called the 395 Coffee Bar with the slogan '_We Serve you 365 at 395!_' prominent in the shop window, just on the corner of 8th Street and Pennsylvania Ave SE, they sat down. The Mediterranean looking man behind the bar mustered Myles, but shook Rashawn's hand. 'How you, man?'

'Ain't misbehavin'...', Rashawn commented. 'Ah, good song!', the man said, looking proud he knew the great 1929 jazz-standard of Thomas 'Fats' Waller. 'You want same as always?'

'Sure, Hisham.' Hisham looked at Myles. 'You want too?'

'Ehm, cappuccino would we good.'

'Of course my friend, of course. You friend?'

'Colleague.' Myles waited for his cup and nodded his thanks.

He sat down at the simple Formica table with a stained green and white cloth. He took a sip of his coffee. 'Hey, this is quite extraordinary.'

'Place may look like crap, the coffee sure isn't', Rashawn responded.

'About last night, any news?'

'Darryll Grant. Known crack-head for ages. Latifah Browne, did use, has been clean for a while.'

'And the little boy?'

The face of the detective hardened. 'Has died this morning.'

'Damn it!', Myles said. He clenched the cup and put it down with force. A bit of coffee spilled over the edge and started to drip down the cup on the table.

'Word. I don't care shit for this guy, but if a kid gets hurt...'

* * *

oOo

* * *

He got interrupted by Hisham. 'You want more coffee?'

'Sure, pump it up.' He turned his attention to Myles again.

'How's your girl doing?'

'Okay, terribly shocked. But physically okay. Psychological, I don't know. Maybe this has been a good lesson, how awful it might have been.'

'To quit using dope?'

'I hope. These days, it seems you're only 'cool' when you won't distance yourself from anything related to narcotics. Using XTC has become 'normal'.'

'What's her name?'

'What?'

'This girl, what was her name again? I forgot', Rashawn said.

'Deanne', said Myles.

'You think she's using?'

'Time will tell.'

'Could be too late by then. Why wait to find out the hard way?'

'I have her blood checked for substances, they took a sample when she went to the hospital yesterday. But I'm afraid I already know the answer.'

'It's a bitch, right?'

'Excuse me!' Myles said, shocked.

'Not the girl, I wouldn't insult you, man. Never. It's just an expression. Life can be a bitch.'

'Ah, yes, of course. There was me thinking...'

'Just blame my Southeast roots for the language.'

'Don't worry, I already have.' They laughed.

'You haven't, now have you?', Rashawn said grinning. 'You still haven't adopted to the more 'down-to-earth' style?'

'I think my Bostonian soaked genes wouldn't allow such degradation', Myles smirked. 'It would have serious ramifications.'

'Jesus, man. All the ten dollar words, it's unbelievable. I've heard more of 'em being with you for half an hour, then during a full month here.'

'It has come naturally with the upbringing.'

'Lucky you...'

'Guess again', Myles said, his lips were still holding a faint smile, but his eyes had lost the twinkle.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: As of September 27th 2006 this story had not seen any updates (even though it has been written). Here's a -long overdue- update.**

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oOo

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Rashawn frowned. 'Shit, you can't be serious man! You got it all, bro'. No shit in no ghetto for a start, raised with a golden spoon, you got college, Ivy League University education... Sounds good to me.'

'It has had it's downsides, believe me.'

Rashawn laughed. 'Spill it...let me hear the soliloquy.' Myles' brows shot up. 'Speaking of ten dollar words...'

'You're avoiding the subject.'

'Indeed I was. To answer your expectations about being raised with a 'golden spoon': College and Ivy League can be hell.' He took a sip of his coffee and looked at Rashawn who made a mocking gesture.

'Hell, kiss my rear end...your college is probably a camping trip compared to my jungle 'tour of duty'.

'Well, as you stated so eloquently earlier, yours was a more 'down-to-earth' jungle. Let's say mine was more of an intellectual jungle. I must admit, less life threatening, but competing against the reincarnation of Henri Poincaré is a lost battle.'

'Poin...who?'

'A famous French Mathematician from the late 19th century. Never mind.'

'I won't. Mathematics wasn't my favorite. I sucked. Though I did learn how to count the dough fast, before the store-clerk closed the till again.'

'An interesting way of sharpening your mental arithmetic skills.'

'Sure. I always got A plusses.'

'Not to mention a fat wallet', Myles quipped.

'Hey', Rashawn drew a semi-insulted face. 'That's a negative thing to say, labeling.'

'No offense, Michaels.'

'None taken, and it's Rashawn. Michaels is for people who I don't like, and vice versa. You, on the other hand, I like. Don't ask me why, for it's beyond me, but I like you, man. You got something only a few people have: you're driven. Driven to do good. I admire that.'

'I've been known to be persistent. But thanks. We might differ enormously in upbringing where we lived, but I feel we do have that driven attitude in common. Honestly, when we first met, I didn't know what I had to do with you, where to put you. The 'entrée' so to speak wasn't picture-perfect.'

Rashawn began to grin broadly. 'Yeah...I can still see that 'deer-caught-in-the-spotlight' look on your face.'

Myles rolled his eyes. 'That was, by no means, a 'deer' look, just an expression of wonder.'

'Go kid yo' sister, you were bewildered.'

'Now _there_ is a word I can fully empathize with. Let's say it got clear rather fast that we roam two _completely_ different fields within the same English language.'

'Aight, word!', Rashawn exclaimed enthusiastic and he gave Myles a rather forceful pat on the shoulder. To be honest, a blow would be more accurate. Myles looked at his shoulder and back to the black detective as he rearranged his coat again. 'Another of those inter-cultural expressions I wasn't exactly too familiar with', he said deadpanned as he brushed something off his shoulder.

'Never too old to learn, bro'.'

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Leland-Henderson Residence

1900 N Quebec Street, Arlington VA, 08.49 AM

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The moment she was released from the hospital, Kyra and Robert had driven straight home with Deanne. Mitchell had been with friends, to make sure he wasn't alone when they were in the hospital. The ride home was awkward, to say the least. Deanne seemed in trance, unable to connect to her environment. She kept staring out of the window of the car as they headed home.

Once they were home, she had been sitting silently at the kitchen table for a while. Not eating, not drinking, despite Kyra's efforts. Shortly after, she left for her room, where she had remained.

Until now, she had not come out her room, and Kyra and Robert had decided to leave her alone for a while, making sure she could rest and relax.

But when Kyra came up to check on her daughter, what she found wasn't the same person that had been asleep quietly.

Her bed was a mess, the sheets were on the floor, and she was pressing her face into her pillow. She was sweating profoundly, and wasn't laying still.

Kyra's heart nearly stopped as she witnessed the distress Deanne was going through. She rushed to her side. 'Deanne!' She touched her daughter's shoulder. Deanne winced, but didn't turn around. Kyra started to panic. 'Deanne!'

She rolled her over. Deanne squeezed her eyes as in an attempt to shield them from the bright light. Her breathing was fast, unsteady. Her movements were odd, almost uncoordinated. Kyra felt her daughter's forehead. It was hot, burning hot. Deanne moaned, discomforted and she coughed so violently it seemed she was going to cough up her intestines as she began to retch uncontrollable.

Kyra ran out the room and picked up the phone to dial 911.


End file.
